A Love That Never Dies
by Ohgeezits.lorna
Summary: Previously known as Sylvie and The Marauders. Adventures, Love and Life. First handful of chapters sweet and fluffy, has stronger language and themes later on from around C9. Completed 23/07/17.
1. Hogwarts 1971

HOGWARTS 1971

My first glimpses of Hogwarts were from a tiny boat on a lake. A magnificent building perched high upon a rock. It was the biggest thing I had ever seen. The boat wobbles precariously due to a red-haired girl rocking it slightly in amusement, much to the annoyance of our two other passengers; a green looking girl who looked as if she were about to puke, and a slimy looking guy who was watching the red head as if they knew each other. I wasn't sure what to think of him with his sallow skin, hooked nose and bedraggled black curtain of hair that looked as if it needed washing, I wasn't sure of whether to trust him or not, he didn't say much. The red head was now giggling at him but stopped as we approached a veil of ivy leading under the castle. I'm not sure if she was scared or in awe. The sick girl was one of the first to get out of the boats, looking happy to be on land.

I grew up with tales of Hogwarts, my sister already a student in fourth year. My father a half blood and mother, a muggle, both attended, started dating in their fifth year, engaged in their seventh, Flora arriving a year or so later. Generations of my family beforehand doing this very thing. As we ascend through the castle we meet a stern looking woman at the top of the stairs and told to prepare for the sorting ceremony. Hushed whispers about performing tests or proving that we should be there escalated. Of course, those that had grown up in the wizarding world had known this wasn't true, although clarity wasn't something we had. Though we did have tales and stories. My father, Adair, was a willing Ravenclaw, always eager to share that knowledge, now working in the Ministry. Flora was also in Ravenclaw although her knowledge was preferable to being rubbed in faces or used as leverage, surprised she wasn't a Slytherin. My mother Iris was a Hufflepuff, maternal and earthy but with a bark worse than her bite when provoked. I suppose I took after her, I want to learn and explore and share it with others but definitely fight back, my sharp tongue and sarcastic comments and quips had often got me in trouble with my parents and muggle school teachers alike.

As we enter the Great Hall hundreds of pairs of eyes turn our way, expectant and judgmental that only fellow kids can. Trying to catch Flora's eye in reassurance she simply turns away. It hurts. A stool is placed in front of the long table with all the professors behind it so that everyone can see. A talking hat is revealed and sings a song about bonding together and celebrating differences. The student body claps as it finishes. The stern looking woman, introduced as Professor McGonagall, clears her throat then clearly calls the first student "Abbott, Henrietta", a fair girl further along the row steps nervously towards the stool and the hat is placed upon her head.

Within moments the hat shouts "Hufflepuff." The yellow decorated table cheers while the other three clap politely.

And so, the list goes on in alphabetical surname, the green girl from the boat stands as "Becker, Harriet." is said.

The dark haired, petite, shy girl shuffles to the stool, clearly embarrassed. "Hufflepuff." Obviously.

And then HE is called, the guy I had met on the train who had helped me with my luggage; well, had helped me up after I had tripped over it. I had never gotten to know his name just a firebolt to my heart then a nod and a meandering away back through the train since all I could do was gawp. "Black, Sirius." Of course, he was a Black; pureblood, he had the air of wealth and prosperity, of casual elegance as he loped to the stool. Even at eleven years old he turned heads with his attractive aristocratic beauty. His fair smooth skin, longish ruffled black hair just waiting to be touched and cool grey eyes that had held mine in slight amusement. I wasn't the only one who had noticed. You could see the Blacks sitting in the far side of the hall illuminated in the forest of green but emitting an air of snobbish prickly nature. They gasped aloud when after a moment of hesitation, he was declared a Gryffindor. I think everyone was in shock, some of his family walking out, I wasn't sure if they were actually allowed to do that but I wouldn't mess with them.

Skip a few letters and a couple dozen students it was my turn. "Grey, Sylvie."

I was nervous as I approached the stool, hopefully it didn't show, the irritating hat takes a while. Possibly a Gryffindor; brave and outspoken, although I didn't currently feel it. Possibly a Ravenclaw, a sharp mind and eagerness to learn. A Slytherin, ambitious and resourceful. But as a mix it's decision is final; loyal, just and true, "Hufflepuff!" And history repeats itself.

Life at Hogwarts had begun.

Each day a new adventure. Each day we settle into a routine, into familiarity. As Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had a handful of lessons together I got to know Mr Black, and his new friends and fellow Gryffindors Mr James Potter, Mr Remus Lupin and Mr Peter Pettigrew and the red-haired Lily Evans a little more, as well my fellow Puff Harriet who I was sharing a dorm with, Henrietta Abbott was in another. The boys were pranksters, forever laughing and causing mischief and consequently getting detention a lot. James and Sirius were definitely the instigators while Peter done the running and Remus 'supervising' but would be a part of it all just the same. The four musketeers. Lily's slimy friend, Severus, had gotten sorted into Slytherin, and was still around making things uncomfortable but it was worse watching the Gryffindor boys tease and torment him. I always wonder what would happen if Severus had retaliated; I couldn't promise it wouldn't be too nice.

Halloween, Christmas, Easter all pass in a blur of feasts and before we know it we're on the train back to London.

A lazy magic free summer (No magic outside of school) ends with a trip to Diagon Alley on Charing Cross Road via the Leaky Cauldron for my second-year stuff. After shopping for my books in Flourish and Blotts Bookstore, I sit outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Watching goings on with a very muggle two scoop; one chocolate the other vanilla ice cream cone, while my parents shop with the more demanding Flora who was sitting her OWLS this year. I wasn't too fond of some of the more adventurous flavours that Fortescue's had like Chocolate Chilli and Strawberry and Peanut Butter. Most people milling around were students with their parents; Sirius, I noted, was with the presumed Potters, maybe Blacks were busy, or more likely less associated. They acknowledged me as they walked by, the boys with their heads together, no doubt plotting. All so familiar.

Time goes by when you're having fun.


	2. Diagon Alley 1975

DIAGON ALLEY 1975 OWL YEAR

The extra stress of our fifth year had begun. OWLS. I was in Flourish and Blotts finding advanced textbooks for my private tuition in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfiguration. From a younger age, where my hair was light blonde, curly and shoulder length, I had embraced magic with encouragement from my father, forever wondering how and why, then later being able to summon things purely just by thinking of it. By the end of last year, at fourteen, I had been able to produce a patronus, easily done in a handful of lessons and an Animagus. Professors had picked up on it and had suggested the extra tuition in my fifth year to help clarify and advance those skills.

My Animagus progression was to be taught by Professor McGonagall; herself a lovely tabby cat and ever so willing to put up with my questions and long process of being able to do it. As well as having patience with the month-long concept of having to keep a mandrake leaf in my mouth and potion creating with it. The incantation Amato Animo Animato Animagus being a tongue twister. So far, my half-hearted lack in concentration attempts had caused me to have ears or a tail now and then, which had needed frustratingly fixed. When in full concentration I was a small brown border terrier.

The DADA training was due to an almost innate ability to do silent magic – nonverbal spells to be precise, although I'd had various degrees of success and accuracy. In duelling, silent magic had a split-second advantage to my opponent. The levels of nonverbal magic were covered in sixth year DADA, Charms and Transfig. Also in Charms I was to be given extra tuition to strengthen my patronus; a brown dog similar to my animagus, matching Sirius' big black dog. Flora's was simply a fizzle, a non-corporeal one. I had never understood why I had developed the skill until it was clarified that it helped defeat dark magic therefore sought after by the Ministry of Magic.

My only hope was to find NEWT level textbooks. I feel at home amongst the shelves. Eventually I find some that could help; Confusing the Faceless, a DADA book covering repelling dementors, and a Guide to Advanced Transfig including human transfiguration plus all my OWL textbooks. I'm sure others would come recommended when I need them. With my arms piled high I make my way to the counter, tripping and sending my books flying in the process. His smooth voice teases, "Ah Grey, always falling for me." The smirk in his voice is clear.

"Bets you're to blame, Black." I snipe back defensively from the ground, taking in todays' familiar all black outfit including the usual black biker boots and leather jacket, his hair held in a bun with his wand.

"High stakes, Grey, I'm hurt." He theatrically feigns shock.

I simply roll my eyes and take his offered hand of help up off the floor, it feels nice in my own until I trip over one of the books and into his arms. I can feel my face burn red. He simply just chuckles before steadying me on my feet. Flustered I smooth a non-existent crease from my yellow wool jumper, not meeting his gaze. He helps to pick up the books before leaving me with a trademark half smile smirk thing. Oh boy.

The few weeks since that moment I recalled it as many times within a day. I was looking forward in going back to school.

My first year without Flora was here. She'd left Hogwarts, was now eighteen and off doing a muggle nine to five job in an office. At fifteen, I had been left to deal with things on my own. Kings Cross Station, full of muggles. I was wearing in a dark floral ditsy print skirt, a collared shirt and my grey Docs with knee high socks, my hair braided into its usual bun. Adair was busy working at the Ministry, my mother had some charity meeting in the village or something, she had dropped me off before going back; not without lecturing me on the need for colour in my wardrobe, not just black, grey, white and yellow. I'd heard it all before. Time to grow up and be independent.

As I push the trolley of various trunks and suitcases and brown owl Toffee through the platform wall, Toffee wobbles precariously with the force. Familiar hands steady her cage as she flaps and squawks in agitation. Black. Boots, jacket, dark skinny jeans and a band tee. Typical bad boy. He pulls it off far too well. He's followed by a smirking Potter, a nod from Remus and a short wave from Peter. Lily, I noted was watching my reaction from inside one of the carriages along with some of her dorm mates with a smile on her face. She was still adamant that Potter, and possibly Sirius were arrogant toerags. I acknowledge them all, thanking Black and attempting to traverse down the platform. They all follow, again he helps to shift my trunks into an already packed compartment alongside scarlet red ones with the golden initials JP, SB, RL and PP. The five of us were crammed into the small space. Strangely it wasn't that bad apart from being the only girl. Like being in class but closer confinement. I often had his arm across the back of my shoulders, playing with the honey coloured tendrils of my hair that had escaped from its usual bun, far too long to risk letting it down during school. I can't lie and say that I objected it. Or somebodies' gangly legs draped across my lap in order to relax. The carriage was full of fun and laughter, of calm sleepy contentment, of harsh comments towards Slytherins which may or may not have been true.

And that's where it has started; small touches – my hand, my shoulder, hips brushing as he walks by. Smiles, smirks and comments. I hoped he liked me back, but why would he. I was just plain old Sylvie; clumsy when I walk, a tad too smart, a bit too gobby when provoked or tired. The four boys and Lily, and occasionally Harriet when she actually spoke, always pointed out otherwise though they probably were just being nice. My smartness was used to help others who needed it. The clumsy was apparently, rather cute as it allowed him to catch me more, then wind me harmlessly about it. And the backchat was always used as a defence mechanism when provoked and never the one to start it. Always reasons. They also pointed I was more than that, honest and reliable, comforting and emotional, creative, always the one for fair play but doing the occasional rule breaking too.

It was just weeks later, I overheard Lily arguing with slimy Snape. I'd been toddling about, going from one part of the castle to another via a courtyard, running an errand when I'd seen them. I couldn't hide or turn back, I simply stuck to the shadows, knowing I had Lily's back if he turned nasty. She was collaring him about dark magic and his friends. Known families who embraced the dark side, Avery and Mulciber primarily, the Notts, Malfoys and LeStranges.

I'd also heard about when he'd snuck down under the Whomping Willow, Potter had 'saved' him, Black not fulling telling him the truth had sent him that way while Remus was, incapacitated. If Snape had gone down there without anyone knowing, the outcome would have been fatal. He points out that James, the Quidditch hero, fancied her. Everyone knew that. She still calls him a toerag, then insisting that Mulciber and Avery were evil. I didn't disagree. I take an archway into the correct building, leaving them to it. I still didn't like him.


	3. Hogwarts Mid Dec 1975

HOGWARTS MIDDECEMBER 1975

Two weeks before Christmas holidays there was an announcement. We were to be having a dance, like a muggle Christmas party type thing. Less formal. The date was set for Friday the 12th, around a week before we left for break. From across the Great Hall I could already see the boys plotting; Remus seemed a little tenser, I knew this was due to his illness, the dance happening days before he would become ill. Spending time around them, and with a little probing, I had already worked out that he had lycanthropy. When I asked, Professor McGonagall had simply just nodded silently. Case closed. I didn't need warning to understand not to mention it, or to go and confront him. Each month he would turn into a werewolf, but what I failed to comprehend was how he could still be in school and go unnoticed. It had me puzzled.

I was in the library one lunchtime researching into Remus' condition, the table scattered with various DADA books, scribbling away on parchment when the chair opposite me scrapes across the stone floor. Glancing up through the tendrils of hair round my face is the very person in question with an unreadable expression. Shoot. A full three minutes' passes before he speaks, slow and in a low whisper. "Sylvie, you know?" I simply nod, letting him continue, keeping my eyes on the parchment to avoid suspicion. "I was a child when it happened, about the age of five." He pauses to collect his thoughts, allowing me to compile the books into a neat stack with the wave of my wand. I meet his eyes when he continues. "I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback as revenge against my father. I was asleep in bed when he appeared through the window. My father managed to fend him off with spells but it was too late." He stands, giving me a moment to pack up my quill and scrolls in my bag. His hands were clenched tightly by his side.

"Remus," I look up at him before gently touching his arm. "It's okay, you don't need to continue." I let out a breath as he relaxes a tad.

He shakes his head, still whispering. "I want to, I'm apparently not a monster, Dumbledore and the boys help me."

As we leave the library he becomes less tense, following him silently through the empty school towards Gryffindor Tower but stopping along the corridor before actually reaching it. He sits on the floor with his knees up to his chin. Understanding I slide down beside him, settling with my legs tucked sideways under me tugging my school skirt further down my thigh and my socks up towards me knees the best I could. His voice resumes its usual volume, "My parents tried taking me to various people, healers, but there is no cure. I'm stuck like this. In this mind and body forever." I thought he sounded older and wiser at this, not like a fifteen-year-old boy. "It was Dumbledore who came to see me when I was eleven, determined to have me here. The monthly attacks were awful, I internalised it and directing it on myself causing scars and wounds. Each month I was left in solitude in the Shrieking Shack, which created the ghost story causing it to be the most haunted building in Britain. I'm the violent ghosts." There was clear amusement in this last sentence. "James, Sirius and Pete found out during second year, of course they didn't buy the lies that my mother, Hope, was ill. I didn't want them to turn from me, desert me. Instead they found ways to help…" through this I had noted he was picking at his cardigan sleeve, fraying the ends. A nervous habit.

"Ways to help how?" I ask softly, knowing full well about the unregistered animagi that lurked about during the days before and after the full moon. I wasn't sure if they knew that I was the brown terrier was me, given permission to keep a distant eye on them.

"You know the answer to that already." I get a knowing look. "Prefect Sylvie, keeping watch."

"Low blow, Prefect Remus." I chuckle. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." I put my hand in his, knowing that it was fine.

He simply squeezes it then stands, offering me a hand up. "Padfoot would kill me if he seen us there." I give him a questioning look. "Sirius, although he loves me: Moony. And James, Prongs. And Peter, Wormtail too." I simply chuckle and shake my head, getting to my feet and smoothing my skirt. They had nicknames in animagi form. I suppose it was codenames in a way.

It was then I noted that the wall opposite had grown three pairs of feet; one set of biker boots, one pair of converse and one sensible school shoes. Had they been there the entire time? I subtly nod towards them, Remus giving me a small smile. They were never far away. I turn to Remus, playfully mentioning how magic it was that the wall had grown feet. He silently chuckles at this. "Nice invisibility cloak boys." I grin, pushing my sleeves up to my elbows, in avertedly revealing the etchings on my forearms. I had only realised when Remus let out a small gasp. Shoot, again. I had always made sure to cover them since we restarted school. A soft rustle reveals Potter, Pettigrew and Black gawping at my arms, then at my face, then back at my arms. Time to come clean.

Turning my arms so the inside of my forearms are upwards I let them be seen. Hesitantly Remus asks if they're real tattoos. I simply nod. "They originally were doodles used to deal with things last year. A coping mechanism. I drew on my arms." I point to the large owl on my upper left arm. About palm size it sits upon a branch in primarily greyscale apart from the orange beak, green eyes and green leaves. "This, was drawn when I lost Toffee, my owl. Thankfully she was found. This," pointing to my left wrist, a very scripty Love, "was drawn when my father got ill, thankfully recovered." My right arm was different again. Beside my elbow was an Aboriginal looking inch and a half turtle. "One of my favourite animals." The rest of arm down to my wrist was covered in space type tattoos; the phases of the moon vertically down the inside from just below my thumb, a sun, Saturn and a multitude of star designs. "Reminds me that we are small compared to the size of things, that each day is new and a chance to start again." Remus reaches for my right arm, the one closest to him, running a finger over the moon phases as if to recall them, nodding as if he understood.

Black had met my eyes, holding his gaze I bite the inside of my lip, I wasn't sure what I wanted him to feel, obviously, I wanted him to accept them but a small part of me was worried.

"You kept that quiet, Grey." He muses, running his hands through his hair. "When did you have them done?"

"Summer past with my dad, he has a nebula down his left arm. Mum and Flora went nuts, though mums came around. Flora still pulls faces at it, as if it'd infect her."

Black takes a step closer, taking my left hand in his, pulling my arm closer for inspection. "I have one too." He runs a finger over the owl, his touch tingling in its path. "Want to see?" Before I can answer his infamous black leather jacket comes off, carefully given to Potter who rolls his eyes. Pettigrew's head keeps darting each way down the corridor as if keeping guard. Sirius attempts to shove his shirt sleeve as far as it'll go. I can sort of see the bottom of a constellation around his left bicep. "Canis Major – Greater Dog. I'm named after the brightest star in it, the dog star." He states in a matter of fact, it's a tad ironic. He seems frustrated that I can't see more of it, he pauses for a moment before pulling his red school tie up over his head, holding it for James to take once more before working on the buttons at the base of his throat.

Reaching out, I stop him. "It's okay. I get the just of it."

"No. See." He takes a step away with his back turned to me before pulling the back of his collar over his head before holding it for James to take. I never understand how guys can do that. "I want you to see it Sylvie." Remus rolls his eyes at this as I glance at him for help. Potter was still standing with arms full of Blacks' stuff while Pettigrew was getting more exasperated and agitated by the second, afraid, I suppose that someone was to come and see a half-naked Black, three other guys and me the only girl. I understood. The entire situation would spell detention, two prefects in five or not. There were rules about being naked in rooms that weren't dormitories, bathrooms and Quidditch changing rooms. He takes a step backwards towards me so I could see his constellation more clearly, it wasn't just his toned arms I noticed, but also the finely toned muscles of his shoulders and back. The way his trousers sat low on his hips held in place with a studded belt. Merlin. He couldn't have just taken his arm out his sleeve, could he? He had to go all out. I expected nothing less. He turns anticlockwise so I can see his arm clearer. From inside his bicep facing outwards is a scattering of dots plus a larger one all connected with dotted lines, like an 'n' shape with a triangle on the top right. Basic astronomy. I can't help but also drink in the rest of his body, it's just as smooth and defined as his back. Oh Merlin. What had I gotten into? He turns to face me, I hold his gaze the best I could, my face heating. Both Potter and Lupin were chuckling beside us, probably enjoying my discomfort. The ever-present smirk on Blacks' face reappears. "See?" I nod in reply, not trusting my voice. "We match, Grey." Again, I nod. "Dog got your tongue?"

This made me chuckle especially when he grins. "I still have many more." Giving him a slow smirk, I mentally levitate my book bag from the floor, sorting it on my shoulder as I step away a couple meters away from the group, "But I can't show you them yet." gets thrown over my shoulder as I stalk away to class as they stand there gawping.

Lessons had started when the four of them rushed into Herbology, the entire class becoming distracted at the disturbance. I couldn't meet any of their eyes in case I started to blush although Harriet had noticed I had kept my head down. "You okay Sylvie?" I meet her questioning look, smile and nod. She seems placated by that. Lily, across the table with her back to the door had to hide a giggle through a cough as if she knew something was actually up or had happened.

It was after this lesson, after the four of them had gotten a lecture from Sprout, on our way up to the castle when James and Sirius had hexed Bertram Aubrey, a sixth year Ravenclaw who'd been waiting outside of the greenhouse to ask Lily to the dance. We all watched in morbid fascination as his head expanded. Lily had stalked off, throwing a disgusted look at the two mischief makers, Pete following her, making excuses for them. I couldn't just stand and watch, instantly I stand between Starbucks and poor Bertram, waving my wand between the two idiots faces. "Don't. You. Dare." I state calmly, controlling my anger at how idiotic they honestly could be.

Professor Sprout comes puffing up the hill, "Red-" heavy breath, "-actum. Skullus!" My head of house waves her wand at Bertram's double sized head which slowly starts to shrink. "Grey, take them to Professor McGonagall." She ushers the balloon like Ravenclaw away to go see Madam Pomfrey.

"Sylvie," Black draws out my name. "Do you, really, have to do that?" He goes to take a step towards me, I take a step back with a scowl on my face. Potter was still standing there attempting to hide a chuckle. I'll swing for the pompous chaser in a minute.

"Certainly." A sharp voice comes from beside me. We hadn't noticed the students separating like a tide. Clearly McGonagall had been notified, and we were all extremely late for our next class. "Miss Grey and Mr Lupin can escort you both to my office immediately. The rest of you. Get to class." She points sharply at the castle. "If the four of you would follow me." With that she turns and stalks towards the castle. Sulkily we all follow her through the various quiet corridors, scarily absent of ghosts or anyone, into her office on the first floor.

The four of us stand in a line, myself, Potter, Black, Remus. Opposite us with her back to the desk, she faces us. I wasn't sure if all hell was going to break loose. "Firstly," she peers over her half-moon spectacles at us. "Twenty points to Hufflepuff for stepping in and defending someone in need." She nods at me. "Secondly, how dare you, Potter and Black, produce and illegal hex upon another student. Do you both realise the implications of using such a thing? Certainly not." She pauses, it's scary how calm she is, but I suppose she's used to having them here. "Double detention for you both and minus one hundred points each." All three Gryffindor boys groan at this. "Thirdly," she rubs her fingers across her forehead as if to relieve tension. "and please tell me this is not true. I have been informed that one of you was practically naked at lunchtime."

We can barely keep a straight face at that one. "Professor," Oh no Black shut your mouth, do not make this worse. "Professor, I admit to being half naked, well, shirtless." He removes his wand from the bun, loosening his hair. Clearly well-rehearsed. "You see," he side glances at me. "I was showing Miss Grey my tattoo." McGonagall purses her lips at this but remains silent. "How could I show her what's on my bicep without having to take my shirt off to do so?"

"She enjoyed it." Muttered under Potters breath, McGonagall had heard him, giving him a pointed look.

Remus is standing with his eyes closed as Black continues, pacing in front of us. "How else was I supposed to bond with another student in a shared interest without actually having evidence?" he stops in front of me. "I had hoped she would say yes, but, alas, I had never got to ask her to the dance as she fled the scene. So yes," he turns to face McGonagall. "I was half naked, but you see I just wanted to impress the lady." He shoots her a dazzling smile.

McGonagall looked exasperated. She looks at us all. "And Miss Grey, what do you have to say for yourself?" She's trying not to smile now, clearly, she was fond of Starbucks and Moony and Wormtail as I was, even if they did boil me sometimes.

"That I have tattoos, more than what I showed them, and Sirius' constellation is simple and lovely and suits him. And logically he could have just taken his arm out his sleeve but," I shrug and take a step in-front of Black, "I'll go to the dance with you Black, just no more hexes and going shirtless in public."

Potter and Lupin high five each other behind Blacks head. It then dawns on me that this had been a plot of sorts, and I'd fallen for it. Typical.

McGonagall simply shakes her head. "Black, Potter, I'll see you for detention tonight and tomorrow. Dismissed."

Outside the office, I turn to the three of them. "What just happened?" I tuck the dancing strands of hair behind my ears, trying to not to tangle them in my piercings, another thing that I had hidden.

Black reaches for my hands, his thumbs brushing them in reassurance. "There was an elaborate plot to get you to go to the dance with me, Sylvie, and when it changed, I had to do something to correct it." He states simply. James and Remus nod in agreement. "And you said yes, because you can't resist me Sylvie." He pulls me into a hug, his arms wrapped around my waist. "Admit it Grey, you like me." It's muffled into my forehead as he presses his lips there.

"You're too sure of yourself there, Black." I smile enjoying the hug, the smell of motor oil and something earthier, the feel of his arms around me, how warm he was. "Be careful your head doesn't get too big." This seemed to tickle James and Remus who'd turned their backs and were trying to mask their laughter. "Let's go to class." I sigh, breaking our hug. On our way down to the dungeons for DADA, he takes my hand in his, squeezing it as I give him a look. Potter makes kissy noises behind us while Remus chuckles and sighs gently. Boys.

Rumours were flying everyone at breakfast. Could the Gryffindor Bad Boy really be dating the Hufflepuff Princess? Basically, sort of. He met me for breakfast at the far end of the kitchen corridor, walking to the Great Hall with our hands intertwined. People were whispering behind their hands, he squeezes my hand. Girls glaring at me as if it were entirely my fault that he didn't have them, a thumb brushes across the back of my hand. Guys nodding in acknowledgment, he smirks at this. I hated it. We had to part for our tables, the four marauders waving from across the hall, sharing looks to make sure I knew that everything was okay. The amount of rubbish was ridiculous. All he had done was ask me to the dance, something that the majority of the students had been doing lately. And yet, suddenly we'd been in a relationship for months and were having a secret love child. At fifteen. Puh-lease.


	4. Hogmeade Mid Dec 1975

HOGSMEADE MID DECEMBER 1975

A couple of days before the dance we were in Hogsmeade, ruffling through the rails in Gladrags, who, in knowing of the dance, had gotten more muggle type clothing in. Racks and racks and multi coloured dresses in various lengths were crammed into the small shop. With Lily and Harriet's company it made it a little more tolerable. Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald and Hestia Jones, all other Gryffindors were also scattered around the room along with other years. I personally hated shopping and wanted if over as quick as possible. Standing in the middle of the room I close my eyes and mind, similar to occlumency, and focus on what I wanted; shorter, monochrome, velvet, sleeves, possibly a low back, a little more fitted rather than swishy, maybe a little more towards last decades styling. Within moments there was a rustle of fabric and a few gasps from fellow shoppers as dresses would no doubted have flown across the room onto my outstretched arm. Opening my eyes, I find quite a few facing staring, Lily and Harriet, having seen it before were more amused than anything. At the counter, Madam Whoever was simply beaming. I forgot just how powerful and rare magic like that could be. Both Lily and Harriet had a couple of things each too. Lily from what I gathered on our way to the changing rooms had metallic dresses which would set her lovely red hair off nicely. Harriet has as usual, chosen more wall flowery type dresses in dull or plain colours.

As the three of us slid behind the curtains, I surveyed what I had found. Two crushed velvet shift dresses in silver and darker charcoal, a black flutter sleeved with a deep V back and a little flare at the bottom, gorgeous but maybe in a year or so. I wasn't ready to show the world just yet. The last dress I was drawn to, in a dark grey smooth velvet, fit to the waist with a softly curved neckline. With a flick of my wand it was on my body. The hem sat at around mid-thigh like I had wanted. Turning to look at the back in the mirror, through the small gap in the curtains I spy a dress for Harriet. Closing my eyes, I send it her way. With a swish of my wand I change out of the dress, sending the two shifts back to the rack and keeping a hold of the dark grey and black low back dresses. Waiting for Lily, she puts the shorter of the two that she had back, holding the long dress for me to see. The top was a halter style, plain black but the skirt was the high impact, in swishy gold pleats it fell to the floor. Squeaks could be heard from Harriet's dressing room, she peeks out from behind the curtain in the dress I sent her way. A 50's tea length dress in teal blue, the bodice has a white dotty sheer overlay and plenty of skirt volume, it was so cute on her, and different from her usual pastels. Her waist was so small in it, the shape suiting her perfectly. Paying at the counter I give Madame Whoever 15 Galleons, letting her keep the 1.68 change for the two dresses. Behind me both Lily and Harriet do the same.

Down the street, we head for Honeydukes, the popular confectionary shop crowded this time of year from wizards and witches across the country. Christmas was certainly its busiest time. Walls of the most amazing sweets, larger quantities of those we had on the train, plus more. Nougat, toffees, hundreds of various chocolates, Bertie Botts Beans, Fizzing Whizzbees and Droobles. My favourite was the lovely, sickly sweet coconut ice. Pretty pink squares of desiccated coconut and condensed milk. It evoked childhood memories of making it with my gran, of sticking my finger in the remains of the tin just because it was so precious, and always licking the spoon.

The shop was filled with primarily students busying Christmas presents to be sent home. They do a mix and match box of sweets, pick the box then a parchment and quill follows behind you making a list of what you would like, when done you simply go to the counter, have old Mrs Flume write a label, which you sign. Nearer Christmas it would get made up and sent. I watch in fascination as she writes the address without even asking.

The Grey Family

Meadow Cottage

Binderby

The Borders

With Love From

All I had to do was write 'Sylvie x' and then it was done to be paid for. A large sized box like I had chosen cost three Galleons and thirty-three Sickles, a medium two Galleons and twenty-two Sickles, and a small was simply one Galleon and eleven Sickles. We also liked to throw the odd single Knut in there as luck.

The day before the dance arrived. With too much excitement for the following day we drifted through lessons. Our astronomy lesson was cut short by half past eight; I'd only had Muggle Studies and Potions that morning along a couple free hours spent scribbling essays then with an hour of NEWT Charms and dinner before Astronomy therefore, an easy day. I was making my way back along one of the corridors when someone grabs the waist from behind, into an empty classroom, chuckling familiarly as I attempt to fight free to hex them. Sirius. "Fun Astronomy lesson?"

"Dire, couldn't see much for the clouds, ended up drawing constellations badly instead." I play with the turquoise ring on my right hand agitated. "What you doing lurking in an empty classroom anyways, I could punish you for that." I smile humouredly.

He nods a little, knowing that I wouldn't, his face not really showing the amusement like it normally would. "Waiting for you." There's a softness from him I had never seen. A nervousness of sorts. "You really sure you want to go with me? I mean, you know, to protect your reputation." He knots his fingers in his hands, his face seems to have lost all its colour. "You're not ashamed or anything to be going with me." Clearly this was to do with something other than the dance.

Stopping his fiddling by taking his hands in my own, I keep his gaze. "Siri, I'm sure I don't want to go with anyone else. I wouldn't dream of it. I ruin my reputation every other day on my own. I'm not ashamed of you, why would I be? Okay, you and James can go too far sometimes but some of the pranks are funny, like levicorpus, it's doing the rounds. You're an amazing friend. The bad boy thing is implied, you only let people get close to you once you trust them, which takes time. You're loyal and you stand by everyone when you have you, that includes being a prat with Potter. You never let him take the rap alone." He still looks a tad worried.

"You're a Gryffindor for a reason. You broke house allegiances that are as old as time." He flinches at this, clearly, I'd hit a nerve. "You're a good person who needs to accept that you can be loved. People do love you. Prongs, Wormtail and Moony, even Professor McGonagall has a soft spot for you. You aren't a bad person, just with an iffy family history. The past doesn't have to dictate the future." I rest my hands lightly on each side of his face and kiss him softly on the lips.

Opening his eyes, he smiles. Not a megawatt get-out-of-trouble smile. Not the trademark smirk. But something soft and gentle as if it's come from deep inside him just for me. "Sylvie, let me explain my family." He pulls me to the floor so we can sit. Taking a deep breath, he continues. "House of Black is one of the original sacred twenty-eight Pureblood families. It has influences in many ways; the majority aren't what we'd define as good. They like marrying within that twenty-eight and so the Pureblood line is becoming defunct. The only way to solve this is by marrying outside of it, naturally the Blacks aren't happy with that, they don't condone it. Those that are Squibs, or marry a muggle, or even sympathise as apparent Muggle lovers, are disinherited and blasted off the family tree. My cousin Andromeda, my favourite cousin who was on the Slytherin table when we started, she's married a muggle, Ted Tonks, and now has a daughter Dora. She got the same treatment. My family basically specialises in Dark Arts, it's not a good thing." He takes a steadying breath, giving me time to digest this information. Part of me was worried that he was going to suggest breaking up of sorts or something. "My mother, Walburga and father Orion, also believe in elitism. The majority are all Slytherin too, even my little brother Reg is. He enjoys the Dark Arts. And as I'm constantly reminded, he's the better son because of this." He sits back with his head against the wall. "I don't believe in any of it, I've defied tradition, and found my real family. I'm the black sheep. The bad boy even at the house. I kind of rub it in their faces, plastering posters of Gryffindor and motorbikes and muggle girls in bikinis. My mother can't get her head why I'm attracted to them. I'm not arguing with her that I prefer half-bloods." I blush at this, still saying silent. "They hate it all. I hate being there. I hate them."

Resting my head upon his shoulder, taking his hands into mine, I state simply. "We've all got light sides. We've all got dark sides. But as long as we're acting to the right reasons, then that's what matters Siri." I give his hands a squeeze. "And you, you're acting as light, doing what you believe is right even when it's against everything you've even known." We sit there awhile, the two of us in the empty classroom. Not needing to say anything. Not needing to do anything. Just being together. If only there was an inter house common room, or a place where not many people knew of just to be able to do this, preferably with armchairs rather than a stone floor.

Somewhere nearby the clock chimes nine. We had around half an hour before lock in. Sighing I stand to my feet, legs feeling as if they'd been Jelly Legged Jinxed with sitting for so long. "Let's go."

He looks up. "Where?"

"Anywhere. No more cold floors."

Aimlessly we wander around the castle, making polite conversation with ghosts, bumping into Slughorn who invites me to another Slug Club meeting on Sunday evening. They were dire. I simply agree politely as Siri sniggers quietly. As clock hands inch nearer towards half past nine we head back down to the ground floor. The familiar corridor where he has to leave me. As he presses another kiss to my lips, Professor Sprout pops her head from among the barrels. "One minute Miss Grey. Prefect or not you still have to abide by the rules."

I simply shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. "Yes Professor." I melt into his open arms. "I'll see you tomorrow Siri."

"Sweet dreams Sylvie." He presses a light kiss to my forehead before backing down the corridor.

Sprouts standing holding the door open, a smile on her face. Clambering through the hole I follow her silently into our common room. She simply just nods as I bid her goodnight.


	5. December 12th 1975

MORNING DECEMBER 12TH 1975

We were informed at breakfast that there were to be no lessons today. Friday was my busy day so I was rather quite happy to have some time to relax or possibly catch up with the three essays that were due before Christmas break appeared, including a three-foot Potions essay in which I hadn't really been paying full attention towards. It was rarely just the case of 'Enjoy Christmas.' The ceiling of the Great Hall had been growing darker as breakfast had been going in. Promising dark fluffy clouds of snow. I hated the stuff, much preferring to stay inside beside the fire with hot cocoa and a good book. But we would naturally be encouraged to go and enjoy the snow, even if it did leave you horribly cold and wet. As we were dismissed, hundreds of bodies rushed to go and get changed into more appropriate attire.

Shuffling back into the common room, I sit in one of the comfy armchairs, the circular window that normally looked out over the meadow fully blocked by white. Summoning the daily prophet as the cauldron on the fire bubbles to life, I flick through the pages. Newt Scamander had found another breed of dragon, there were notes that within the next couple of years he was expected to be awarded with an Order of Merlin. There wasn't much about animals that he didn't know. A cup of cocoa hovers by my elbow, looking up I find Harriet in the chair opposite, making it dance with her wand. "It's chaos out there Sylvie," she smiles. "We should probably go and at least see what's going on, something about an all house snowball fight." She looks a little alarmed at this but laughs when I pull a face." I heard Sprout caught you and Sirius last night." She takes a sip of the cocoa, simply raising an eyebrow.

"Just a kiss or two." I smile at the thought. "She was checking for lock in and we were in the corridor, she gave us a minute. Its fine." I knew she wouldn't push for details, after Astronomy she would have come back in here and started on the Christmas essays. Wise girl. Drinking the last of the cocoa, I sigh at the thought of the snow that would await. We'd managed to postpone going out for about an hour by the time we tided the common room up and manually washed the dishes, delaying the inevitable.

Popping into the dorm we both grudgingly get into muggle layers; jeans, warm jumpers and wellington boots, pulling our hats, house scarves and thicker coats on as we exit through the kitchen corridor. A snap and a house elf appears in front of us, Harriet squealing in fright.

"Miss Sylvie," the short round house elf with little round ears, bows from what little waist she had. "Your mother reminds you that you're to come home for Christmas, Miss Flora is joining is us."

"Hi Mimmy," I turn to Harriet, "Mimmy is our house elf, she goes between here and home." Crouching down to Mimmy so I'm on her level I thank her for the message and promise to be there, and hopes she gets time to go play in the snow. She simply smiles sadly, pats my hand and snaps out again. As we bypass various external doors, you could feel just how cold it was as students come and go.

Tugging our scarves over our chins towards our ears as we exit the castle, our boots sinking a good couple of inches into the white fluff underfoot, already my toes were cold and my nose felt numb. Harriet looked just as cold, quite possibly would turn blue quicker, and could possibly be used as my scapegoat into the warm. I really wasn't enjoying the highlands of Scotland in winter, though in autumn it was beautiful.

Out in the quad it was chaos, battle lines had been drawn. Primarily Gryffindor v Slytherin with a scattering of Puffs and Claws between. And right in the middle of it were the Marauders. Of course. They wouldn't have been able to resist. Pulling the looped over ponytail on the base of my neck tighter, hiding it down the inside of my coat as much as possible, I trail Harriet over to the left-hand side. This was primarily made of red and gold, who were avoiding the oncoming slaughter of tennis ball sized rounds of snow, and hurling just as many back towards them. On the edges of the battlefield were students making snowmen and attempting to catch snowflakes on their tongues.

After around a couple of hours or so, members of faculty had appeared, ushering students inside as the layers of snow were coming down in sheets instead of flutters. Instead of having us trudge wet into all the nooks and crannies, and to save us from the wrath of Filch and Mrs Norris, we were directed into the Great Hall where a late lunch had been set up. Hundreds of soggy students shed their coats, scarves, hats and gloves. Warming platters of comfort food were in abundance, mince and potatoes, sausage stovies (a Scottish delicacy), macaroni cheese, various types of thick hearty soup. And for deserts; apple crumble and custard, various sponge puddings, sweet crispy pies in cherry, apples and peaches. Everything followed by cauldrons of hot cocoa, coffee, sweet teas. All able for us to thaw out, although the dampness had left a tenseness deep in my muscles that just warming up and eating couldn't thaw.

When dismissed a lot of the students head back outside with permission, although less than this morning. Promising Harriet I would catch up later; a Puff pyjama pre-dance party type thing was planned from around four pm. It was all hush hush for the time being. Winding my way up to the fifth floor, I find the prefects bathroom unoccupied, having passed a Ravenclaw sixth year on the stairs. Giving the password, 'Lumi', Finnish for snow, I make my way across the room to the stalls where I shrug off my coat and boots. Filling the pool sized tub with a flick of my wand I peel off the mustard coloured jumper which was soggy at the sleeves followed by my damp socks. Padding across the room in my bare feet I check the pool, doing nicely, and the temperature of the radiators which were just right to dry out the wet clothes enough so I could stick them back on to get down to the common room. As the room fills with a lovely floral smell of bath stuff I undress and let my hair down from the ponytail, it skimming to around my hips. Sliding into the hot water my tense muscles relax. No one could disturb me here, the door locks and vanishes while someone was in. Minus Moaning Myrtle, the ghost that lurks the girls' bathroom on the first floor who has a habit of popping in every so often, it was weird. Mulling over the various taps to which shampoo and conditioner to use, I swish and swirl the water quite happily enjoying the peace and quiet, the mermaid in the stained-glass window copying and giving advice to which ones were better. Settling with tropical for both, a lovely vivid pink colour then the colour of strawberry milkshake when lathered. I feel instantly better once it's done, piling my hair into a fluffy white towel on top of my head. Edging to another one of the taps I find coconut oil, rubbing it leisurely in small circles into my skin. A lazy hour later I climb out, summoning my now dry clothes and draining the pool.

The school was still quiet-ish as I head down to the basement, the main hallway full of soaked students in which I shuffle by, holding onto my still towel wrapped hair with one hand, my coat in the other. Muggle ways. The common room was busier with students attempting to dry off in front of the fire. Sliding past I find Harriet by my side and on her way to the dorms, chatting uncharacteristically about several Slytherins being put in the hospital wing with bruising, she had been back out in the snow.

In the dorm, the girls weren't doing much. Harriet and I change into our pyjamas and out of the outdoor clothes, piling them in an empty trunk we used for laundry. Cynthia, had her white blonde hair in tight narrow curlers and was lounging in her pjs on her bed flicking through a magazine. Her pale smooth strawberries and cream complexion, white blonde hair had violet tinges and icy blue eyes. She also had a temper to match those icy eyes. Her parents were some upper-class men, she was due to go to a private posh school alongside royalty when she'd gotten her Hogwarts letter. Her parents were horrified, and consequently had very little to do with her usually only spending the occasional holidays with her. She was quite uptight to start with but had now softened up, slumming it with the rest of us. Rumours often circulated that she was an illegitimate Malfoy, clearly not with their traditionalism, or part Veela or half giant due to her height.

The twins; Misty and Amber had the same features, the same high forehead and soft grey eyes. Misty was ethereal with long dark straight hair. Amber was an inch or so shorter and a tomboy with cropped bleach blonde hair and piercings. They mixed and matched their clothes quite happily. Their mum was an incredibly sweet muggle born while their father was a half-blood like my own. They met on Ministry business shortly after their dad had graduated and the rest was history. They had seemingly every part of their wardrobes strewn cross the two beds in an attempt to figure out what to wear and were consequently arguing about it.

Flicking on a copper lamp beside the dressing table I remove my hair from the towel. To the other four girls the long length and wavy curls was nothing new. Harriet switches on the enchanted muggle hair dryer, running her fingers through my hair. She loved doing our hair, she was amazing at it. She works from the back forwards, drying and loosening the curls in my hair, the copper glow highlighting them gold. Yes, I could use magic to do it, but it was so relaxing having someone else do it. A tiny fluffy owlet lands millimetres from my hairbrush after circling the ceiling. It hands me its leg and I take the note. It's a small scrap of parchment with a pawprint on one side and loopy

elegant writing on the back.

'I'll wait for you at the end of the corridor 6.55pm. Yours Sirius.'

A giggle interrupts my reading. Harriet; always one for romance. With a snap of my fingers a muggle pen and note paper appears 'See you later x' gets scrawled across it in my scribbly writing. Attaching it to the little ball of fluff, I give it a stroke, so soft and tiny. It curls into my fingers before squeaking then flying back out the door. Cute baby. Harriet continued drying the front of my hair, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. Once dry, she separates my hair into two sides before teasing and twisting the front of my hair into a French plait, leaving the wispy bits loose. Once reaching the base of my neck she continues them in normal plaits down my back, twisting them into buns, promising to pin them properly later on after the pre-party. Eventually the twins had quietened down, realising the time the five of us dash to the common room.

A radio had been set up, magicked to play muggle songs on loop. Greg Lake believed in father Christmas, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen has us all signing along, scaring some of the pure bloods who wondered why we all had a fascination of Galileo. Chubby Checker was twisting again, Elvis was wanting the green green grass of home. We were bouncing along to Abba's Mamma Mia and Glenn Campbell was bedazzling cowboys. We all get interrupted by a handful of homesick Ravenclaw first years. Within the hour, the door was left open allowing students of all ages and houses to come and go. Helena would have been proud.

At around six the other houses were hustled out of our common room to get ready for the dance.

In the dorm, my long hair was once again sorted by Harriet, the two plaits pinned and tucked into a crown around my head. A coating of foundation, a smudge of smoky eyeliner, a dab of blush and a slick of red lipstick completed things. I'd rather have an extra half hour in bed than do that every day. Somewhere behind me the twins were squabbling over something. Harriet rolled her eyes as she replaces me in the seat. Her curly shoulder length hair was pinned by silver slides into a victory roll, it was far too fiddly for me. Her dextrous fingers are magical. I stand and absorb her actions in the mirror. She was usually barefaced so giving her pointers I suggest a sliver of eyeliner into a cat flick, done by Cynthia and rose pink lips, keeping it simple. She looks lovely. As she changes into her tea dress and white open toed kitten heels, I attempt to not fall out with the tights I was busy attempting to not put a hole in. Finally sorting them I pull the dress over my head, the smooth fabric gliding down my body and zipping it up at the back. Stepping into four-inch block platforms I attempt to take a few steps, I wasn't used to heels. Cynth had a lusciously long black lace evening gown with sleeves and a small train by some expensive muggle designer. Her shiny hair a vintage curly curtain down past her shoulders. Misty was in a coral sheath type dress with gold sandals, her hair as it was everyday but with a gold band around her head. Amber had dark flares on with a black vest top and large gold key necklace; as dressy as she was going to get, her pixie flattened and flicked in her usual style. Fabulous ladies.

On the way to the Great Hall we join the masses; I hold back at the end of our corridor, assuring them I'd be okay waiting for Sirius on my own. At precisely 6.55 he appears, winking at the stragglers passing by. He was dressed in his usual dark low slug jeans and biker boots. Instead of the usual band tee, he'd dressed up in a black shirt and blazer. His hair was slightly ruffled, bets deliberately so, and designer stubble still gracing his lovely face. He looked good. Taking my hand in his he makes me twirl, albeit a little wobbly in the heels, but around none the less. Slowly a grin spreads across his face, it made me both terribly self-conscious but awesome at the same time. He pulls me into him, his hand on my waist, my own on his shoulder, our other hand intertwined. In these shoes, I can look him in the eye, give an inch or two so we match in height. Together we spin, our bodies moulding, fitting like a jigsaw, our foreheads pressed against each other, taking our time and enjoying the silent moment. "Ready?" I simply nod, wishing we could stay here longer, but knowing we had to go.

The Great Hall was packed. Bodies move freely, dancing, laughing and socialising between houses. His hand in mine we find the punchbowl. Beside it was James getting flirty looks by some of the girls, Pete looking a tad antsy and Remus lounging against the table, quite possibly looking a touch bored. They all look up when we arrive. On the dance floor, I spied Lily, Harriet and the other dorm girls along with Alice and Marlene, who shared Lily's dorm. Taking a sip of the juice, sickly sweet blackcurrant plus who knows what else was making it shimmer, I motion for them to give me a moment before joining them. James mutters something about getting Evans to dance with him, before he could finish that sentence I give him my cup. Leaving the four boys to drink and crowd watch in my wake.

As time passes and people relax eventually the boys start mingling. Pete kept complimenting a blushing Harriet, it was incredibly sweet. James had finally 'cracked Evans' which earned him glared from a certain slimy Slytherin. Frank Longbottom whisks Alice away. This left Remus between Misty and Marlene as both Cynthia and Amber had gone and seen other people. Siri meanwhile had refused to let go of my hand, twirling me in closer as guys approached or envious girls glared on their way past. Part of me is hurt by their glares; it would always hurt. But having his chest pressed into my back, his arms locked and circled around my waist, his warm breath on my ear. It made it worthwhile.

Later in the evening everyone was re-energised and now moving as a solid mass of writing bodies, colours, limbs and houses blended. Across from us Lily was laughing at James' attempts at dad dancing, she was starting to warm up to him after their initial conflict way back when. His eyes constantly flit to her, his moves getting cheesier each time, provoking a happy reaction. Pete and Harriet were closer now, slow dancing side to side but still with a gap between them. Maybe in time it would develop into something. Misty, Remus and Marlene were linked in a human chain along with a few others, their hands in the air waving to the music, much to Remus' chagrin. Siri was still behind me as before but closer somehow, his hips grinding slowly, out of the beat of the music but in perfect sync with each other. I wish I could touch him, but he was having none of it. Slow. Deliberate. Teasing. Mr Black had moves, but not the kind of ones the aristocracy would deem the correct kind.

Edging from the crowded room took a small amount of time. Once through the door, he pulls me close to his side, taking long deliberate strides away from the noise into an alcove overlooking the lake. Hogsmeade simply a smattering of twinkling lights in the distance. He takes a moment to appreciate just how magical it looked. The snow casting a frosty tint, the expanse of the dark frozen lake reflecting the fire torches of the castle into a slight blur. His serene face absorbing the nightscape. Turning his attention to me he shifts one of the tendrils behind my ear, his thumb brushing the helix piercing on my right ear, his hand curved around my face. Another thing he just acknowledged. He'd taken a step towards me, his other curling around my waist, pulling us closer while my hands were around his neck running my fingers lightly through his hair. Swallowing hard I wet my lips, catching his gaze, I look away smiling. Our bodies meet, flush against each other, his hips dance as our lips collide. Urgent. Exploring. Teasing. Tasting. My hands embedded in his hair, his hands splayed across the base of my lower back. We break apart. Chests heaving. Faces flushed. Out of the corner of my eye I spy a streak of grey and black disappearing around a corner. McGonagall. He lets out a small chuckle clearly having seen her too. He rests his forehead against my own. Grey eyes meet brown. "I love you." He whispers with a smile.

"I love you too."


	6. December 18th 1975

DECEMBER 18TH 1975

Awakening late, our dorm slowly rises. Realising the time, we throw on whatever's closest. Last night's dress and my boots for me. Rushing along to the Great Hall I loop my hair into a rough twist. We weren't the only ones as students mill closer to the double doors, shuffling through. Last nights' mess had been cleared up, everything back to its spick and span self. The four houses once again separate. Pancakes with various sauces, syrups and fruit laden the table with magical and muggle cereals; Cheeri Owls and my favourite Pixie Puffs being the two most popular magical kind. Some of the seventh years looked a little too much worse for wear as if they'd been drinking alcohol, smuggled in from the Three Broomsticks or the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade which Dumbledore's brother Aberforth had. I could think of four accomplices that could easily do this. Through the heads of Ravenclaw and Slytherin I can make them out, the current layout meaning they were as far across the hall as possible. James nudges Siri in the ribs with his elbow, teasing no doubt. The 5"7 with room to grow over the next few years, Gryffindor Punk Rock Prince was simply unfazed, deliberately winking as I grin back.

Soon enough the tables begin to clear, students quietly chatting, catching up with gossip on the way out. With Harriet on my elbow we shuffle across the large room to the Gryffindor table. The remaining Lions shifting to make from for the two incoming Badgers. Harriet slides in beside Pete, their hands connecting while I slip in between Wolfstar where Siri throws his arm casually across my shoulders. Remus simply looks amused if a little tired. This could be due the dance or maybe starting to feel the effects of the full moon in a handful of days.

A lazy day of doing very little apart from recovering and tidying up continues. Normally on a Saturday a large part of the day would be spent in Hogsmeade, but the snow had put a stop to that. Or catching up with essays but with the Christmas holidays coming up we had three weeks in total to do them. The concept of this was for the students to be able to use the stuff we were learning or re-applying during this week to the essays.

Lounging around the dorm, it being sort of tidier after we had reshuffled the mess a little, a quiet first year pops her head around the door before coming in fully, handing me a note. Another pawprint. 'Corridor.' I pin it to the corkboard, alongside the other one, before setting off. He's leaning against the wall, one boot against it, thumbs threaded through his belt loops. Merlin, he was gorgeous. Girls on the way by were checking him out. I really couldn't blame them. He winks at them, smirking as they titter. In seeing me he runs a hand through his hair, tousling it. Approaching him, I can't help but smile, sinking into his embrace and returning the fevered kisses. Our bodies mould, his bent knee keeping us steady. Hearts racing. Hands playing, exploring. Touching hair, faces, arms pulling closer. Chest to chest. Hips locked. Long fingers stroking, caressing, exploring the fabric of the velvet dress upon the base of my back. Careless. My hands settle on his face, last nights' stubble still here, familiar under my touch. Searing, scorching kisses. Setting fire to the cold outside. I couldn't feel the cold when I was with him.

Just days after the fevered kisses by the common room I rarely see any of the Marauders. This, I knew, was down to the full moon. Remus had been exhausted for those couple of days previous. Apparently, according to Lily and Marlene, he'd been looking peaky and not able to face food, simply just curling up and napping a lot or lounging about the common room reading. He'd leave when it got too loud and busy, commenting about a migraine. They'd also seen him scratching, as if he had something contagious or irritating like the measles. Although if this were the case he should be in confinement which was a touch ironic.

As nightfall came after dinner he was escorted out to the Whomping Willow in the darkness by McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. He would take the underground tunnel into the Shrieking Shack as per every month. I noted, Dumbledore stood keeping watch from a nearby window. It was a good hour before they returned, the headmaster tapping his nose. That was my cue. In a small bypass cupboard, which would vanish once I used it, I transform into the little border terrier, appearing through a small concealed hole in the castle wall beside the tree. Minnie simply nods in acknowledgment. I had been sworn in by Albus and Minnie, learning that Remus in his wolf form wouldn't attack other animals. His spine would curve and his nose lengthen, all his joints expanding, changing, transforming and causing pain. He'd been taking wolfsbane, so he would still be Remus in all his sarcastic, knowledgeable, chocolate loving self. From what I gathered it was a faint blue smoking type drink with a rather unpleasant taste which renders the drinker sleepy and borderline comatose. We're joined by a stag with a rather startling set of antlers; Prongs aka Potter. A fat grey rat with a long tail; Wormtail also known as Pettigrew. And a rather large hyperactive black dog; Padfoot and my Sirius whose ears prick and tail wags in fondness.

The three of them come to a stop in front of us. It's a very strange sight. Snow covers everything and a minor gathering of animals. Minnie transforms back, talking us through things; I think, perhaps it was for my benefit. Remus had transformed, this time with suspected broken fingers and possibly more, but was now back to human and sleeping. He'd internalised the majority of it, no doubt creating more deep scars to be treated in the morning with powdered silver and dittany. All we had to do was keep him company, myself and Pettigrew acting as messengers if necessary.

Wormtail pokes a knot in the base of its trunk, avoiding the thick branches and paralysing the tree for a short while longer. We then get left to it. Cautiously I follow them through the tunnel; arriving into a depilated foyer with a broken chair. The entire building had a fine layer of dust and grime coving it. The fabrics were moth eaten and grey, all traces of colour gone to the hands of time. A rickety staircase leads to a second floor, a handful of locked doors. I already felt grubby and in need of a wash. The boys lead ahead, nudging the door open. Moony was asleep and snoring loudly on a very dusty four poster bed, star fished out on his stomach. The wallpaper was torn, large shreds peeling off. Possibly, it was deliberately downtrodden so that Moony couldn't injure himself any more than what he already did. The blanket which had been placed over him reached his waist, he bare back scarred with white lines plus newer red ones which I was itching to treat but knowing not to do so.

Prongs sits at the base of the bed upon the floor. Wormtail curls up on the edge of the bed beside Moonys' feet. Padfoot goes and lies around the sleeping wolf. I feel like I'm intruding. It's as if I'm a spare part. I preferred it being like it used to be, guarding what was unknown at the base of the tree. I shuffle outside quietly, resting on the other side of the door. The night drags slowly, the dust and grime embedding itself into my fur. Occasionally from behind the door there's snuffles, floorboards squeaking, then silence. I never managed to fall asleep properly, too aware of everything to truly switch off.

Just before daybreak the four of us head back down the tunnel. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were waiting for us. Minnie would go retrieve him, Poppy would take him up to the hospital wing to treat and give him something to make him continue sleeping and healing. There'd be a pile of chocolate on the bedside table which would cheer him up.

Transforming in the cupboard, even in human form feeling icky and gross. Grime, grit and dust still appears to be sitting on my skin. I instantly head for the nearest bathroom, taking a short sharp shower just to get rid of the spidery feeling that sat underneath my skin. Next time I'd spend the night in the tunnel, or under the tree, or on the ground within shelter of the castle keeping watch. Drying off quickly I check the girls in the dorm; all safe and sleeping soundly. The castle was still and quiet. It was all rather strange. Today, in just a few hours' time that castle would be getting ready to leave for the holidays. Silently with a flick of my wand I pack things into a suitcase; a few textbooks and the essay plans along beside muggle clothes to get changed into.

Pulling my robes tighter around me I head along to the Great Hall; a handful of students were milling about. Sitting up from a scattering of third years I help myself to a mug of hot tea, adding a teaspoon of sugar and whole milk. A short while later food appears from the kitchens below, the usual breakfast stuff plus quirky strawberries cut with cream to look like Mr Claus, sort of. Soon enough the hall fills, each student getting these amusing strawberries.

A few hours later, after lunch, those that were going home for Christmas trudged through the snow to Hogsmeade station. With the company of Lily, Marlene and Alice the journey back south was fun and in good company. Once again, I'd ignored the prefects' carriages as had Lily and Remus, choosing to stay with Sirius, James and Peter. With the worse weather the train took a touch longer than it would do in better weather, even with a little help from magic. Kings Cross station was busy with muggles wrapped up from the bitter cold. Heading through the pillar between muggle platforms I find a very grumpy looking Flora. She looks, no offence to her or anything, but awful. As if all her sparkle and magic had been drained from her. She'd lost that glow and vibrancy. Sirius simply catches my eye as he and Regulus follow their parents out the station. I had been warned by Remus that he would probably behave as they expected in front of everyone. It wasn't anything personal but it still stung a little. Flora was too bust muttering to herself to truly notice anything around her.

The long drive back up to the border counties was dire. I noted just how old my sister actually looked. Her teenage enthusiasm for knowledge seemed to have been sucked from her. Her once bouncy light brown hair was scraped back into a severe looking ponytail at the back of her head. The familiar brown eyes we both shared, seemed dull. They had lost their sparkle. Her sharp bossy voice was now a mere mumble as if she was afraid to speak too loudly. What the heck had destroyed her? Her normally pristine shirt and skirt were now rumpled. Her patent shoes were now scuffed into a dull grey. Even her woolly tights had runs in them. I knew better than to ask. Stopping at a service station I got sent for food while she stayed in the car. She picked at her sandwich and took a small sip from the bottle of pop. Her eating disorder had returned. But what had been the trigger? The last time it was both her OWLs then NEWTs, causing severe stress. Pomfrey had coaxed her back to health. But who could do that now she was trying to survive in the muggle world?

The main road through Binderby had been gritted and cleared of snow. Various houses in neat rows line either side. In the centre the cenotaph stands at the middle of the large roundabout. The post office and village shop on the left, the primary school on the right. The road then narrows again into more symmetrical houses. There was just as much white stuff here than at Hogwarts. At the far end of the village the church spire can be seen for miles around, the small graveyard with rows of stones lie under the cover of traditional yew trees. Benches dot the small site so people can sit, reflect and remember. After this, around the bend, the house comes into view. The place of my childhood.

The rectangular building stood clear of the hedge high snow. A path had been cleared for Flora to park the car, and then up to the front door. The light blue door of the porch opens, the glow of the light illuminating the round figure that is my mother. Ushering the two of us into the warmth of the hallways where remove our coats and boots. I leave her fussing with Flora and make my way into the kitchen at the back of the house. My father is sat at the long oak table at the centre of the room, patches faded from years of use. He looks up from reading the muggle newspaper, simply nodding when I motion to the kettle. I make him coffee, milk and three sugars and two milky teas for myself and mum.

Footsteps echo up two flights of stairs, the door to Flora's room slamming harshly. She would be climbing the ladders into her loft to cry or sulk or whatever. Mum sighs as she sits beside dad. Clearly her fussing didn't go down too well. Glancing at her I see just how much the worry that Flora was causing had taken its toll. The once fine lines that graced her face were deeper. Her once dark curly hair was now flatter and thinner. She seemed older than her thirty-six years. Dad was the same as always minus the peppering of grey around his temples. What, exactly, was causing the premature stress and ageing? Was it really all down to Flora's clear distress? Maybe the war on the Dark Lord was a touch closer to home.

Leaving them to it I head back into the hallway. Opening the door under the stairs I follow the slightly sloping tunnel out under the house. My room which, being deep into the back garden, would be covered in snow. Entering the circular room, so reminiscent of the common room. It was wonderfully familiar. The single way mirrored windows curve around the dome shaped ceiling. On a normal day, I could see the sky outside yet no-one in the garden would be able to see inside. A lovely light grey colour covered the circular walls.

From the doorway in which I stood to the right, there was a small bar type kitchenette complete with a sink, microwave and kettle. Various small cupboards contain a few plates, cups and cutlery along with non-perishable foods. Further to the left behind a door was a small corridor. Straight in front was a floor to ceiling deep cupboard with shelving from about a meter up and room underneath. The left door lead to a circular wardrobe space with drawers and floor to ceiling hanging space. The right door lead to a circular shower room. A toilet and wash basin and a small meter high wall sectioned off shower. The room was light and airy and decorated in temperature controlled colour changing tiles.

Opposite me was the bed. Double in size with an intricate metal headboard, black in colour with vines and leaves and yellow jewelled flowers. A light cream coloured duvet was tucked neatly awaiting my arrival. The entire left hand side of the room was a lounge area complete with a comfy dark grey sofa and chair which was perfect for curling up in. Yellow cushions scatter across these, a yellow rug upon the wooden floor. A large TV upon a small unit. Shelves are scatted around the room with jars and vases full of shells and stones, pinecones and acorns and my favourite carnation flowers. Bookshelves are placed around the room, books upright and laying across each other in a small semblance of order, upon these were small copper lamps illuminating a soft glow. On the wall to the left of the door stood a floor to ceiling cage, owl nuts were scattered on the bottom as Toffee perched on a branch preening herself after flying down from Hogwarts. Going over I pet her while shutting the small outside gate with the tug of a small lever.

It was good to be home.

Upon awakening to the hooting of Toffee on Christmas morning, I find a small number of presents lying upon the sofa. Padding across the short space I find a few presents covered in tartan wrapping paper and foil ribbon. Inside these were books; a compilation of Beatrix Potter tales reminiscent of my childhood, limited edition covers of Alice in Wonderland and The Secret Garden. The other present was a gold box with smooth scarlet ribbon tied in a bow. The black tag complete with a gold pawprint. Inside was a vintage looking gold bangle embedded with shimmering white opals and black diamonds. It was beautiful. Priceless. Just what was the cost of him for giving me such a beautiful gift? I wasn't sure but it didn't give me a good feeling.

In the living room the simple tree was decorated with twinkly white fairy lights, satin silver bows, carved metal stars and clear glass baubles. Upon the very top sat a large silver star. Clearly dad had managed to tame mum. As children, we were used to a mismatch of colour and texture, the tree struggling to cope under the weight of it all. More of the tartan wrapped presents sat under the tree. Big. Small. Little. Tall. Square and round. All in the primarily red paper. A short while later we were sat for lunch, dad had started on the Firewhisky and was rather merry as mum served the turkey with all the trimmings. Flora was still quiet, picking at her food and pushing it round her plate with disproving glances coming from mum. It was awful.

As the holidays go by in stifling unusual silence I retreat to my den. Completing the essays and lounging about reading and watching films that were on the television. The new books were wonderful, I'd pack them back to school with me. Remus would possibly appreciate them as would Lily. I'd never known a Christmas like it. I wasn't enjoying it.

On New Year's Eve Lily and her muggle parents arrive along with Harriet and hers, and Marlene and Alice too. I'd invited the boys along too but none of them responded. The music vibrated through the house, it was nice to try and have some sort of semblance of normality. Voices were barely audible over the radio. Adults chatting a little too cheerily. 1976 came in with a shot of Firewhisky which burned its way down.


	7. 4th Jan 1976

SCHOOL BOUND 4TH JANUARY 1976

I had packed and repacked the case. The slightly worn grey leather with yellow stitching and gold clasps, my initials SG were embroidered under the handle. Inside a new cloak, the books I had gotten plus muggle chocolate bars. Important stuff. Toffee had been set for Hogwarts earlier that morning and I'd meet her there due to having to use the fireplace. Already dressed in my robes I throw a handful of Floo powder into the grate, the flames turning emerald. The adverse weather had cancelled the train outright.

Flora's illness, I found out through snippets of conversation between my parents, was due to a very stressful muggle job. Her boss was awful and she barely had enough time to eat, her lunch hour more focused on keeping up, and staying late into the night. Going cold turkey without magic was clearly not good for her. I don't think that she'd been on her own too much anymore, mum would be popping in or phoning on a regular basis.

Stepping into the grate the flames lick around me without damage. I keep my elbows tucked in I state clearly 'Hufflepuff Common Room.' Various fireplaces whizz by as move, not able to catch where I was. It was an awful and messy way to travel.

Dusting the soot from myself I note a pile of black powder upon the carpet, the common room already busy with students catching up. In the dorm, the twins were unpacking untidily. Cynthia had stayed here during the holidays; her parents were spending it in the southern hemisphere. Harriet was nowhere in sight. None of the girls had heard from her over the holidays, and I hadn't heard from her since New Year's Day. As we head for lunch she was still nowhere in sight but appearing late in the afternoon. She'd gone to London to catch the train, forgetting that she was supposed to be taking a port key along with a couple of others. She really should have gotten an organiser for Christmas. It was a good job the Kings Cross had a wizarding waiting room in which a large fireplace could be used in times like those.

It was a few days later that I even got a glimpse of the four boys. Their cloaks billowed behind them as they left after breakfast having been their super early and leaving as it started getting busy. It was strange and incredibly frustrating. Even the three Gryffindor girls shrugged when I checked with them. They were avoiding us. I didn't like it. They skipped lunch too. Something was up.

I find Lily, Alice and Marlene in the library, as per usual. The three of them sat around their normal table as they always did at this time. I was caught up with everything so it was reassuring to find them with textbooks covering the table, scribbling away to finish the essays. Sitting beside Alice, I remove Alice in Wonderland from my bag and a blank muggle notebook with colouring pencils. I start with book Alice in her blue dress and long blonde hair at the bottom of the page. The girls look up curious. Both Lily and Marlene have knowing smiles on their faces. To pureblood Alice this character was definitely new. Keeping my voice low I ask them if they knew why the boys were AWOL. They shake their heads, Lily commenting they were avoiding them too. I ponder this for a while, drawing a border around the page to that of a heart playing card. "Any idea where they could be?" Again, they shake their heads, each giving me a sympathetic look. Taking my time, I pencil in 'Wonderland' in a curvy looping script across the top half of the page before going over in a stronger line, widening the letters and filling them in. "Any idea how to find them?" They pause a moment, thinking. How do we draw four mischievous boys enough so they can be seen? Long enough to talk, or even just pause a moment. I play with the bangle, twisting it around my wrist. They'd noticed. "Present."

Still we sit in silence, deliberating. How do we draw attention so much that they have to stop? A prank, so well executed that they would do whatever possible to find out who did it? Possibly, just causing a scene? Drawing attention? Using Reg as bait; that would be harsh and we'd have a load of Snakes on our case. Possibly getting him to help, though I can't see that happening. If we could just know where they were and that they were going to be there long enough to be able to approach them. Or we could go straight to the people who I was almost certain that would know. Dumbledore and McGonagall. But I didn't really want to involve them.

We needed drama. Excitement. Something that would get people gossiping. Attention grabbing. Provoking. Shouting. Screaming. Something that would provoke a certain dark haired seeker enough to come to the rescue of a red-haired damsel. His friends would follow. Something that would let him step in, chivalry and bravery. Coming to protect those who needed help. "We need to fight, Evans as bait. We need to have an argument in front of everyone. But it needs to draw attention." They all nod in agreement as we plot against the Marauders.

I finish NEWT level Charms a little earlier. This gave us a half hour gap before the start of dinner in which the boys wouldn't be allowed to skip any longer. Alice had found this out from the ghosts who were known for gossip. With a flick of my wand I change into a backless grey floor length dress, the neckline higher to my collar bones, tied with a ribbon at the back of my neck. My hair was let down, grazing the bottom of my ribs. This left me vulnerable but I was sick of not having the boys around. Of not having Siri around. But it was definitely attention provoking. No-one had seen my hair down minus the girls in the dorm. The blonde waves fall softly, swishing against my naked back. If I were to shift my hair out the way my entire back would be exposed. To what my hair concealed would also cause people to talk.

Stepping into the busy corridor the looks start, whispering behind hands and such. By the time I reach the main hallway of the castle the whispers, looks and bodies follow me like the pied piper. Eventually it overtakes me. In the hallway near the Great Hall I find Lily, poised to react. The amusement of it all making her green eyes twinkle. We'd been a touch mean towards each other these past few days. Small snipes and niggles thrown at each other. Just enough for others to start picking up on it. "Grey." She stands blocking my way, her red hair swishing, her hands on her hips. Her fake anger was a touch intimidating, it's a good job I knew it was an act.

"Evans," I smirk, "Thought you'd wait on me?" I pull my hair into a high ponytail. The gasps from behind me has the desired effect. "You really didn't have to." Alice twirls her wand in her hand in the corner of my eye. The boys had arrived.

"No magic, Grey. None of that silent stuff you do either. Just you and me." She passes Marlene her wand, motioning for me to do the same.

"Fine. Your call." Sticking my foot out from below the dress, I mentally remove the wand out the boot and into Marlene's hand. Once again, the crowd gasps. Wandless silent magic. It always seemed to cause people to react.

"Fight me." She motions me with a single finger to come closer. "Payback."

"NO! Evans. No!" Potter pushes his way through the gathered crowd. "Grey, don't." The other three boys follow, standing between the two of us. Then I notice Sirius. His usually flawless face was shadowed with fading brown blotches. His left eye was a touch puffy and bruised, his lip had been split but was now healing. It's what I had originally feared. The cost of the priceless bangle which sat upon my wrist. Lily just simply nods, seeing what I had. I wanted to touch him, to reach out and hold him. I knew he would run. He wouldn't want sympathy or fuss. This is why they had been avoiding us. Protecting one of their own. Sometimes magic couldn't heal things easier than what biology could. Some wounds were better left be.

"Mission accomplished Lily." I grin at her. "Thanks." All four boys look confused between us.

She simply smirks in return. "Turn around, I want to see your back please."

"Just don't go hexing me or anything." I take her outreached hand as she chuckles, I twirl. Right now, I was vulnerable. She would see the series of Celtic knots from the base of my neck down to where the dress stops at my waist, though the ink went further. Each knot was interlined by a series of crisscrossing vines. I can feel her absorbing it all in as I watch Sirius. He's refusing to meet my eyes. His proud chin levelled in defiance, the column of his throat exposed. Any other time and I would have placed gentle kisses down it, softening the stubborn stance. I want to speak to him but the words are stuck in my throat. I wish he'd told me, or at least tried to get in touch. The bracelet wasn't worth him being hurt.

"Pretty. Heritage, Sylvie." She acknowledges, letting go of my hand.

I slide the heirloom off my wrist. As I hold it out for him he takes it slowly. His fingers wrap around the delicate metal. I wasn't worth him getting beat up for. Trying not to cry, I walk away, pushing my way through the by standing crowd. In the corridor leading to the common room, our corridor, I let the tears fall freely, the dress swishing as I hurry. The beautiful attention seeking dress had worked. I didn't like seeing him hurt. What kind of people would do something like that? I already knew the answer to that.

Curling up on the chair beside the fire I felt incredibly small and insignificant. Childish, I suppose. The world suddenly felt a whole lot bigger. I didn't know where that left Sirius and I or our relationship. I wanted to fight for it. I wanted our relationship to grow. But he needed to do and want that too. But he also needed to be careful and not get bashed about on the wrong side of his family. He needed out of that toxic family and that way of life. I couldn't protect him from that though. A cup of hot tea appears along with my wand. Professor Sprout's kind face is beside me. I take it gratefully. She doesn't speak, just sits in the armchair opposite. Her presence is calming and reassuring. Placing the tea down, I stand. With another flick of my wand I'm back in my school uniform. The ostentatious dress pooling on the floor. Kicking off my boots I curl up back in the chair with the tea, knowing that I had missed dinner. With a crack Mimmy, our house elf, appears with a plate of macaroni cheese. Taking it, I thank her, she pats me knee before disapparating.

I spend the next few days hiding in the common room. The other Badgers checking on a regular basis that I was okay. They offered to get me school work, staying with me to guide me through it and whatever I had missed in class. The upper years relaying NEWT level information that I needed. Or they'd come and sit and talk about mundane things, Quidditch, the weather, my favourite colours, anything just to distract me and cheer me up. They really were all lovely.

On the Sunday I venture into the Great Hall for breakfast. The twins, along with Cynthia and Harriet creating a huddle round me in solidarity. Each wearing a grey turtleneck to match the black one I was currently living in and covering up with. I wasn't ashamed of my tattoos; I had even more than the ones I show. The other two were covered up, I wouldn't be showing them to anyone too soon. Not public knowledge. There was only one person in which I wanted to show them to. Our relationship was up in the air, there was no chance of that yet. On our way through the hall we're met by fellow housemates, all with turtlenecks or scarves. Covering up in solidarity. This, is what being a Hufflepuff was all about. All being loyal to the end no matter how silly the situation, or how old the event now was. Bypassing the Lions, the three girls smile and wave, I wave back, glad things weren't weird. I can't meet the Marauders eyes quite yet. The thought of being so distant with them upset me. My heart too. But I was fine. I was in the masses. And things were going to be okay. The stunt Evan's and I pulled was going to fade into old news. Thank Merlin for that.

A week or so had passed. Yesterdays' news. James and Sirius was still frosty with us over it all. Remus and Pete were softening a little. The former had taken interest in the books when I had been sketching in the library. The lure of limited edition covers had been too much. I was happy just with the fact that he'd approached me. He did, however, get warned not to damage them. Pete was simply just doing whatever he could to try and get his brothers in arms to react. James had even stopped trying with Lily. It was all sorts of weird.

Up on the fifth floor the music classroom was empty. We used this room during muggle studies learning both magical and muggle music. Personally, I was fonder of muggle than magic. I suppose I got that from my mother too. Adair had a fondness of Celestina Warbeck although she was a tad too screechy for my liking. Thumbing through one of the muggle music books I find classical artists; Debussy's Clair De Lune, Beethoven's Fur Elise and Moonlight Sonata, Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake and Pachelbel's Canon in D. I knew I'd be a touch rusty from not playing in a while but it would be lovely to relax into it. I also wondered if there was more modern and up to date sheet music. Something from this decade's charts. The book nearly hits me in the face as I summon it. Flicking through the pages I find Elton John's Your Song, a couple of Abba songs, Queen and a few others I recognised.

Sitting upon the small bench in front of the piano I give it a tinkle, the piano was thankfully tuned properly. Now where to start? Classical, always therapeutic to play. Soon enough I get lost in the music. It all comes back like I'd never stopped. Childhood memories of my granny Ethel playing, a young me beside her watching her hands glide across the keys. A little older and she was by my side instructing and correcting the mistakes with a gentle manner. And playing solo the summer before Hogwarts where she was simply just a memory. Once again, I start crying. I hoped she would be proud of me. I'd like to think she would be, even with my magical abilities. As I finish the set, a round of applause comes from behind. Turning I find a small gathering of students. Amber and Misty plus Harriet and Cynthia. Lily, Alice and Marlene too. What surprised me most was the four boys who all stood gawping. Mimmy is also beside them, a huge smile on her round face looking pleased as punch. She shuffles forward. "Mimmy apologises to Miss Sylvie for intruding. Mimmy heard the familiar music and had to tell people. Mimmy told Miss Sylvie's friends. Miss Sylvie's friends didn't believe Mimmy. Mimmy had to show them that Miss Sylvie could play." It all comes out in a rush. Bless her.

Standing I crouch and give her a hug. "Thank you Mimmy." She pats my arm, something familiar, before disapparating. Turing to my audience I smile, now rather embarrassed. "So…?" I play with the rings upon my fingers.

"Sylvie." Siri. His black eye and split lip had healed. I didn't want to talk about what had happened. "What else can you play?"

"I was going to try chart stuff…" it was all a touch awkward. Harriet just smiles, nodding to the piano. Getting the hint, I sit back down, flicking through the compilation for pop songs, starting with Bohemian Rhapsody. Behind me I hear shuffling then eventually humming with the intro. " _Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide. No escape from reality…_ " by the third line most of them were singing along. Both James and Sirius could be heard mumbling about muggle music. Alice was singing softly; Lily and Marlene must have been playing it. Mentally I send a lyric book in their direction. By the chorus everyone was singing with gusto. It was quite a strange thing, playing the piano with people singing behind me. I could have done with them being in my peripheral vision.

As I flow from one song to another they appear at the front of the piano just like I wished. A familiar body sitting next to mine, his gaze upon my fingers, a slight smirk once again on his lips. Maybe we could go on from this. As I play the closing notes his arm is around my shoulders. A bunch of happy teenagers with no current concern in the world apart from falling out with each other and some shitty families.

Sirius and I really needed to talk.

He takes my hand, leaving me to play a simpler version of Fur Elise, it was sketchy but coherent. Our friends, with a bit of nudging, melt away out the classroom, leaving us. The silent room is punctuated by piano melody. With a flick of his wand he makes they keys move on their own accord quietly in the background. We talk, starting with the plan that Lily and I had concocted. He understood why we had done it, apologising for avoiding me. He asked about the gorgeous dress, commenting how we should have an excuse to wear it properly sometime. To give it a better memory instead of it representing something negative. And then onto the tattoo. Had it hurt, yes, yes it did, but worth it. And the meaning of each symbol. A loopy cross known as a Quaternary, a clockwise spiral, a double spiral known as an Epona, an anticlockwise spiral. The trinity loop or Triquetra then the Triskelion triple spiral at the base, hidden from view when I had the dress on. All interlinked by gentle ivy vines, the leaves coloured in an Irish green. He commented how one day he would trace them down my spine. I had no doubt that this would be true.

We then discuss Christmas, the beautiful but inappropriate bangle which he reveals from his jacket pocket. Walburga had gone spare, using Regulus under the Imperius curse to lash out at him. His father watched on. He'd stood and taken it, knowing that if he were to run it'd be worse when they caught up. The bracelet had been a last act of defiance. He'd watched his mother blast his name off his family tree in Grimmauld Place. He'd left. Turning up to the Potters in Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve. His face, he mused, was bad. He could barely see, his nose could have easily been broken but wasn't, the split lip. They were nothing to the broken ribs. Mr and Mrs Potter had healed him enough for him to swear he wasn't going back. They'd accepted this and set up a bed in James' room. The school, obviously, had to be notified. Minnie had been relieved, giving him a biscuit and cup of tea, instructing to lie low until the bruising subsided. Reg had apologised ten times over, it wasn't his fault, though there was a bit of tension between the two brothers. Now that he was in a safe and loving place he'd realised just how toxic his childhood had been. Hexing for fun. Thinking nothing of treating the house elves as little more than slaves, he still didn't like his mother's house elf Kreacher. But he was now away from the grasp of Dark Magic, of Pureblood Elitism. The Potters would look after him.


	8. Mid February 1976

MID FEBRUARY 1976

As Valentine's day approaches the waft of love potions stink the place out. Siri and I were back to normal, the heirloom bangle once again upon my wrist. Every morning, somehow, he'd be at the end of the corridor, always looking amazing. Every morning we'd sneak kisses in between gaps of my fellow Badgers heading to breakfast. Every morning we'd wander into the Great Hall a few minutes late and always hand in hand.

On the official sappiest day of the year I was met in the corridor with a breath-taking kiss. No flowers or anything overly romantic thankfully. The Great Hall had been decorated with heart shaped balloons and paper streamers. Bewitched Cupids fire arrows which explode into confetti in mid-air over everyone. The entire hall was covered in shades of red, pink and white. Even breakfast was heart shaped. The pancakes were heart shaped with sticky strawberry syrup. Fluffy marshmallows with heart piped cream over the hot chocolate. Strawberries cover anything they could. Anything that could be made heart shaped was so. It was too much. As the post descended with muggle cards, squeals and groans could be heard around the room. Just far too much.

And then it got worse.

Toffee appeared, a pink envelope clutched in her talons. Landing softly, she hoots happily. Beside me Harriet pats my arm affectionately. Opposite the twins and Cynthia smile. Removing the card its plain apart from 'Have a Great day!' upon the front. In opening it the mechanical thing plays Happy Birthday, seemingly enchanted the irritating song echoes around the room. It's signed Love Mum, Dad and Flora. Harriet then puts a gift bag upon the table, an apologetic smile upon her face. Beside it Cynthia puts a small metallic box. The twins both struggle with a larger box, nudging Toffee grumpily out the way. She soon flies off. Clearly no fuss hadn't happened.

Inside Harriet's bag was a lovely new mug. It was slightly larger than normal with daises upon a buttercup yellow background. Cynthia's box contained two simple pearl earrings, expensive but simple and understated. The twins box, about a foot cubed, blocked them from my view. Lifting the lid, I find a blank white cube. Taking it out, its light, which puzzles me even more. Someone behind the box shifts it from view. Harriet prods the cube curiously. It does nothing. The twins share the same amused expression. Misty motions for me to wave my wand across it in a circular motion. In doing so an image appears on the surface. The first photograph we took just after our first meeting in the dorm. We were so young and small back then. Flipping the cube a few times, more photos appear, changing every so often. It was a rather strange thing but also irreplaceable. Eventually the photos fade revealing a message, 'Happy 16th Sylvie x'. It was awesome.

I feel them before I see them. People behind me. High bets that they'd be Lions. Four, possibly five males, three females. Turning around on the bench they all have smiles upon their faces. Alice and Frank give me a joint hug and both giving birthday wishes before going off hand in hand, something about checking the mandrakes. The four Marauders plus Lily and Marlene were left. Pete gives me a hug before handing over another card. They'd all signed it and had chipped in for a gift card for Honeydukes. None of my presents had cost a lot but that didn't matter. It was the thought behind it that counted the most. I then caught what the girls were discussing. Out of all of us, Siri was the only guy that was sixteen. Cynth had her birthday at the start of September, just days after school had restarted. Siri the third of November. Marlene the twelfth of December and Lily the thirtieth of January. Remus, James and Pete along with Harriet, Alice and the twins were still all fifteen. Both Remus then James would celebrate next month, Pete and Alice in May the twins in June then Harriet at the start of July.

Trickling out of the Great Hall in a large group we pass some of the Slytherin students. Severus, I noted, was watching Lily but looked away when James caught him. Avery and Mulciber glaring at the popular Lions, sneering as we all pass. Clearly no amount of love could save them. But I wasn't going to allow them to ruin the day. All around us couples were holding hands, kissing and giggling. One of the rooms up on the first floor had been cleared of desks and filled with comfier chairs and bean bags, allowing us all to pile in and relax. Something about encouraging inter house bonding. It was what weekends were for. Siri, I noted, was uncharacteristically quiet and subdued. Something was wrong. As everyone settles, chatting happily over romance and my presents, I pull him aside to the back of the room. Instead of letting me talk, or him explaining, he pulls me into a hug. It isn't anything much, just feeling safe and secure and having that moment of togetherness. I still don't know why he's quiet, but maybe I'll find out in time. He twists us around in a circle, slow small steps. Step back on my right foot, forward again. Another circle. Silent dancing. Slow kissing. Unaware of our friends in the room. I was busy twirling back into him when I notice another badge on the lapel of his jacket. A badger. It wasn't very big but it was there, alongside a stag, a wolf and a rat. I was touched. I didn't need flowers or huge presents. It wasn't some extravagant gesture but it meant more than anything else. Brushing my thumb over it the metals cold. His lips warm, inviting, hungry. We startle apart as a recognisable whoop interrupts us. Potter.

At least we weren't at Madam Puddifoot's sickly café like most couples would be. We spend the morning relaxing, chatting and sneaking kisses. Playing silly small pranks on each other which Cynthia and the twins soon get sick of leaving us to it. Both Harriet and Marlene chose to stay, even plotting against the boys a few times. After lunch James had Quidditch practice which Remus, Pete and Harriet elected to go and watch. Lily and Marlene had 'Urgent business.' to attend. Quite possibly this could be something mischievous and may or may not have something to do with getting revenge on Marlene's hair being dyed purple after her shampoo had been tampered with.

That left Siri and I. Hand in hand we wander out to the sundial garden where large stone boulders sat below the shades of the clock tower beside the wooden bridge. The stone circle was similar to that of Stonehenge in the south of England. Druids, Wiccans and Pagans love that place. This very rare one on the castle grounds clearly had importance in order to build a school upon it. The wonders of Celtic mythology. I loved being in it. I often came to think or just spend time alone. The entire place made my spine tingle. We sit upon the small the small centre boulder, looking out over the grounds. "You're unusually quiet, Siri."

He screws his nose up at this, "Yeah, thinking."

"About?" Our hands are still intertwined, our boots equally as scuffed from the dry ground worn away by the past.

"You, Sylvie." A smile plays upon his lips. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not.

"Me?" I'm sick of the short cryptic answers.

"Yeah and life."

"Me and life?" Maybe he's lost the plot?

"Yeah." He sighs, running his free hand through his hair. "Like what's going to happen when we leave here. You-Know-Who is coming back. Suppose we'll have to fight against him. I can't lose you, or the guys, or Red. You're all family."

"I'm not going anywhere. Sirius. Our little friends based family isn't either. Once we leave here, there's a whole world waiting. Maybe we'll be in London at the ministry, or looking after sick people in St Mungo's. Or we'll be battling his followers. Or we could be in Europe finding rare magical creatures. Right now, we don't know. I think I'd like to be an Auror. You know the whole animagi, patronus, wandless silent magic thing. I could be useful.

"And you're amazing at art, but you can do loads. You match us all in Transfig, can do nonverbal just as well as I can. I wouldn't cross you in a duel. You ace me in charms too. You're one of the brightest, smartest and most charming in our year. You can go and conquer the world, Sirius."

"Charming you say?" he smirks, raising a brow. Teasing.

"I give you a pep talk, and all you take is the fact I called you charming?" Sighing, I shake my head amused. He's back.

"Anything else Miss Grey?" Fishing for compliments now.

"Charming…" I feign thinking. "Artistic. Smirky. Smart. Graceful. A little reckless but that helps the punk rock bad boy thing. Loyal. Protective. The list is endless."

"Amazing hair, dreamy eyes, wonderful kisser?" Mr big head looks innocent.

"Giant ego…" I sing song, standing and twirling. "Though the kissing thing could be debateable." I bite my lip, knowing that he'd bait.

"Debateable, psh." He catches my arm, spinning me around, holding me close. "I'll show you."

He takes my face in his hands, my hands resting lightly upon his chest. His thumb wipes softly across my lips, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my mouth. My breath catches. Slowly his mouths on my own, gentle and soft. Then he stops. Smirks. Then repeats. This time a little more, teasing. Each time a single kiss building in intensity then stopping to smirk. It was sweet torture. A short while later we were struggling to catch our breath, needing air. Swollen lips. Mussed hair. Shirt buttons open a few and ties abandoned on the ground. Fiery, passionate, needing. But highly aware of our surroundings to let it go too far. It wouldn't be too difficult to get carried away. He wanted it. I wanted it. But this wasn't the time. And definitely wasn't the place.


	9. Easter 1976

EASTER 1976

Mum was adamant that we were to have everyone over during Easter holidays. Instead of everyone having to take the train down then having to drive up to the Borders dad had organised it with Dumbledore to have two portkeys to travel. Cynthia was off to the Bahamas with her parents while the twins had a family wedding to attend to. The rest of us; myself, the four Marauders, Lily, Marlene, Alice and Harriet, were to be split into two groups. With our house being on the outskirts of the village we would be safe to transfer directly into the wildflower meadow behind the house.

Dressed in dark blue jeans and a yellow collared blouse with my usual boots on my feet and suitcase in my hand, Siri's in the other, we all await in Dumbledore's office. It was cramped and he was nowhere in sight. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving Hogsmeade. Dumbledore buzzes in, two plant pots in his hands. "I'm rather afraid, children, that there's been a ruling against the nine of you using portkeys. Underage wizards and all of that. Instead you are to Floo." He places the two pots upon his desk. Instantaneously green shoots arise from the earth. "So, you may use this one. State clearly Meadow House Binderby. Miss Grey, you start."

With a handful of Floo powder I step into the grate. "Home." And so, flying through chimneys begins.

I land in the living room, mum already having put down a plastic mat for the soot and ash to collect in. Within the next half hour or so everyone appears safely. Iris greets everyone with hugs and kisses to each cheek before ushering us all into the kitchen. She'd baked an array of cakes for our arrival; various sponges topped with pastel icing. The kettle was just reaching a boil so she could offer everyone tea, as per custom. She'd gone all out today. A floral printed tea dress with an apron round her soft waist. Her hair had been curled and pinned too and I swear she had make up on. Dad was in his office just off the hallway doing ministry business.

Crowding around the table we help ourselves to the cakes, Iris pours tea and coffee for everyone, even pushing us away when we offer to help. For those that didn't want hot drinks she offered iced water or pop and was quite content fussing around the kitchen humming to herself. It was all a bit strange. Looking out over the garden and into the fields beyond; butterflies dance in the breeze landing on various wildflowers in the meadow. It was incredibly soothing and something that was constant in my life. Sirius was playing up to his charming ways, probably trying to keep mum sweet. "Yes, please Mrs Grey. No thank you Mrs Grey. Let me help you with that Mrs Grey. You look wonderful I must say, Mrs Grey." It made her blush and twitter, insisting they all call her Iris. Oh Merlin.

Trudging through the house I show our guests their rooms. Up the creaking staircase to the first floor, the two other bedrooms that weren't my parents were given to the boys. Potter and Black in the one furthest from my parents. Remus and Pete in the middle room. I'd put a bet on with Evans that they'd all be in the same room by morning. The two rooms were identical. Plain white walls, square windows with light blue curtains and matching single beds. These could be magicked into a double bed if need be. Upstairs on the same floor as Flora's unoccupied room the girls were to stay. Lily and Marlene in one. Alice and Harriet in the other. These rooms were identical to those a single floor below. No fuss or frills. A simple bathroom on each floor made things easier for everyone.

Allowing them to settle in I disappear down my tunnel into the den. I wonder how long it would take them to find me? Chuckling to myself I wondered if they'd spot the clue. I left my bangle on the door handle under the stairs. Lifting the lever to let Toffee in I wander around my room. The girls hadn't come down here at New Year. We'd all been kept to the living room and kitchen alongside the adults. Curling up on the chair I flick through a magazine, keeping an eye on the time. Around ten minutes later I hear muffled voices echoing through the tunnel. They all stop in the doorway, peering around each other in awe. Various expressions flit over their faces as they take it in. Siri is the first to make a move. Striding across the room towards me and flopping upon the sofa with his feet hanging over the edge, red socks and all. This in turn relaxed everyone, they pour in. James and Remus shifting Siri so he had to sit up. Pete and Harriet on the floor beside them. Offering the chair I head into the corridor, finding a couple of beanbags in the cupboard for times like these. Lily had taken the chair, Marlene a beanbag from me while Alice had taken the chair from the desk. Flopping onto the final beanbag we chat happily. James produces a pack of exploding playing cards from his pocket leading to a vicious game of exploding snap. I wondered just how competitive the boys would get if I brought out muggle board games, or told them how to play poker or black jack. I'd happily play poker with my boyfriend though I couldn't guarantee it'd stay clean.

Summoning a few choices from the cupboard they float out over everyone's heads landing in the middle. Harriet's face was pale. "Sylvie, you're not supposed to do magic outside of school."

"I know Harriet, relax. We're not supposed to do wand magic outside of school. I don't always need a wand to do magic. You know that. And I have permission from the ministry to do so. Apparently, its powerful stuff but I've never not done it. Summoning stuff really is as easy as breathing but it takes control to be able to manoeuvre and land things safely.

"I was six when it started. All I had to do was think about what I wanted and it happened. The first time it was a cupcake from the kitchen. I knew mum had made them and was lying on the sofa reading. One moment I was thinking about them, the next it had hit Flora in the face. Bad aim. Mum had come chasing it through. Flora was screaming. I was giggling behind my book. Instantly mum knew. I got lectured about it but dad was proud. Flora didn't like it. She really didn't get magic until she went to school. Case of having to learn things properly." The boxes upon the floor are stacked neatly in order of size. The long Monopoly box on the base, Sorry just an inch shorter. Ludo is in a square box, Four in a row in a small rectangle and the playing cards on top. James, Siri and Alice all look the stack warily, firing question to us in the know.

Grabbing the playing cards, I remove them from the pack, mentally shuffling them mid-air. I was never good shuffling them with my hands. Dealing them across seven spaces for solo solitaire. It takes a little while for me to get into it, being watched by the three Purebloods in wonder. Remus and Pete had started playing four in a row while the other three girls had started Ludo. With each move I explain to my little audience the game. After a few moves they pick it up. James tries it with magic cards, which popped a little on each correct move. Highly irritating. I quickly finish my own game, each four suits lined up. The magic cards create a small shower of fireworks once complete.

A long game of team monopoly fills the afternoon. Remus and Alice. Pete and Harriet. Myself and Siri. Marlene dibs banker leaving Lily paired with James. She feigns annoyance but we knew differently. Once the rules were clarified and ornaments chosen with a few arguments we were ready to play. Both Siri and I had grabbed the Scottie dog, of course. Remus and Alice had chosen the top hat, seen as being smart. Lily and James had a debate between the race car (James) and the battleship (Lily), settling with the race car when Remus had threatened them with the boot. Pete and Harriet chose the iron, Pete commenting about steaming the rest of us. Tensions ease.

It became clear that we were all set for arguments and nit picking from the off. Padding across to the small fridge I remove a few cans of pop from it. Back in the game Siri had built another hotel on purple squares causing Mr Potter to protest in handing over the money. He'd picked up on the tactical side of the game rather well. The leather jacket had been shed, hair pulled into a bun and held with his wand, a too good poker face in place. Sitting behind him I let him play, occasionally whispering help into his ear.

As the day changes into night and the sky darkens outside it's then they notice the ceiling. With no light pollution, the sliver of moon and sprinkle of stars shine clearly in the inky sky. It still takes my breath away. The monopoly game had ended up with the board and pieces scattered across the room. Monopoly never ended well. Luckily, we didn't have to manually find the pieces. It was just the case of imagining them all in the box. It still amazed me as little bits of metal and plastic fly into the tray, narrowly missing peoples' heads. The only issue with this is I could become lazy, just having to think of things being done.

Days go by with lounging about the house, catching butterflies and avoiding bees in the meadow. Playing a bit of Quidditch in the garden or attempting to. James was a little irritated at our lack of skills but was happy to show off in front of Lily and nearly ending in a tree. The village was quiet, the small amount of school kids loitering about, jumping rope or playing hopscotch in the street. They wave and chat as we wander by. The school mistresses' daughter Ettie Humphries and her cronies all stop playing instantly. In noting the boys, they swan over, invisible chests puffed out, twirling their hair and pouting their sticky overly glossed lips. Silly little eleven and twelve year olds would be going off to big school in September. From the school cottage, her mother comes running at her delinquent daughter, sending her inside and apologising for her behaviour, commenting that Henrietta should know better than to try and interrupt the bigger kids. She chases the cronies too, threatening to tell their mothers if they didn't leave us be. I think, that Mistress Humphries knew more than what she let on. She had taught both Flora and I from the age of five and often helped Iris out at church meetings. If she didn't watch out her little daughter would end up in big trouble.

It was the night of Easter Sunday. We'd spent the day childishly finding eggs in the garden. Both chocolate and magicked eggs that revealed a small prize when opened. The chickens that pecked around their pen weren't too happy at being constantly disturbed. It was maybe around midnight that my door opened but no one was there; Toffee hooting and flapping at the disruption, back from hunting just an hour ago. Instantly I was awake and mentally preparing to attack the intruder. My skin prickles. Fabric swishes.

Sirius. Under James' invisibility cloak. Throwing a pillow at him he dodges it easily. Holy smokes. Mr Black stands at the end of my bed. Hair tousled to perfection. Naked bar a very snug pair of black silk boxer shorts upon his jutting hips. Strong protruding collarbones just wanting to be kissed. Merlin. His eyes charcoal in the moonlight. A mischievous glint in the grey. My mouth had dried as I watch him. Primed. Dangerous. Mine. Suddenly the vest top and shorts I was wearing felt a lot less. In a good way? In a bad way? I wasn't sure.

Slowly he crawls up the bed. My breath catches in my throat. Peeling back the covers he slides in beside me. Curling into him I trace patterns across his chest. He mimics them upon my shoulder. Touches. Exploring. Familiar. Long slow kisses. Fingers and lips grazing new places. That spot behind my right ear where my tattoo is. The Quaternary at the base of my neck. Fingers followed by lips. Tracing the vines. The fabric soon gets in the way. I shy away from him. Turning my back to him he continues his playing. Ghosting fingers. Warm lips. Once at the base of my back he starts at the top again. A kiss behind my ear. Fingers curiously tracing the newly exposed tattoo upon my right ribs. Each flower upon the cherry blossom tree tingling slightly. It expands my full ribcage from under my breast to my back, the trunk down my side to just above my right hip. His movements are cautious as he reaches the blossom furthest away from him, the ones towards my stomach and breast. "Sylvie?" breathy against my shoulder. Seeking permission. Rolling around facing him, his eyes flit across my body. I go to cover up but he catches my wrists, rubbing a thumb across them in reassurance. "You're beautiful."

By morning every inch of skin had been explored in copious amounts of detail. The other ink, a spiral of sorts. A pink petal upon the external of my hip, following the contour inwardly as a soft black line which blends into the body of a small butterfly across the expanse of the inner of my hip toward my thigh before curling on itself into a large cherry blossom like a backwards 'S' shape. At first, he was gentle and sweet, deliberately taking time. By day break we'd have bruises in unmentionable places, hidden from view. As the sun came up I was glad that my room was distant from the house and well sound proofed. Toffee had soon disappeared, probably going to roost elsewhere. Before anyone awoke he hid back under the invisibility cloak, kissing me softly before sneaking back upstairs.

At breakfast, we kept sharing looks across the table, comments about really needing to get sleep due to being kept up all night long and such from Siri. I'm glad neither of my parents had picked up on it. Still half asleep. The only person who did was ever observant Lily. My mother told Siri that he should have a nap later if he needed to, it wouldn't be a problem. I simply pull the scarf around my neck a little tighter and tuck into my toast, not meeting Evans' pointed looks. Siri just simply seemed to find this rather amusing.

Later on, in my room we were chatting over nothing. The sun beating warmly through the roof. It was warm with the yellow scarf on. It wasn't very punk but it covered my neck. He'd gotten off relatively unscathed. The majority of bites and marks hidden under his clothes, just as mine were. It was hard having so many layers on. A short while later the scarf unwillingly comes off. Miss Evans simply smirks at the bites scattering my neck and collarbones. Slowly it dawns on the rest exactly what she was reacting to. Harriet simply gasps and blushes. Marlene laughs. Remus gives us that look of his. Pete hands a galleon to James who high fives Siri and comments to Lily how they should try it sometime. This earns him a glare and a snarky comment in reply. All tensions ease.

The holidays end far too soon.


	10. OWL Exams 1976

OWL EXAMS 1976

I hated exams. OWLs were stressful and really nasty. I dread to think what NEWTs would be like. When I wasn't in exams, practical or written, I was studying. Going over old material, which could possibly come up or finishing adding the extra information into essays from the few lessons we were still having to attend. I even taken to going over the stuff that had appeared in the exams. I'd written out what I had missed or gotten mildly wrong. It was incredibly frustrating. There wasn't anything I didn't not know, I just felt some of the answers were somewhat vague. And that I could have done better, or made things clearer.

Over those few weeks, I barely saw Sirius.

When I couldn't focus inside I headed out to the stone circle with a backpack full of textbooks. For all my OWL classes, the exams had been taken but I still had NEWT level classes to contend with and I didn't need to sit them until two years' time. Sitting upon the centre stone I spread the DADA, Charms and Transfig books around me. From the backpack, I also remove a muggle notebook. It was easier to make notes in than rolls of parchment. Also in my bag was parchments of old NEWT essays which had been marked by each professor with feedback. I only actually knew about half them in enough detail but I had time to learn the rest. Using these I adapt my notes. Around me there is silence. No rustling leaves. No distant shouts from students. Just peace and quiet. It's as if the circle understood that I needed to study and blocked everything else out allowing me to concentrate. As the sun makes its way across the sky I bask in the warm summer heat.

Taking the long way back to the castle I catch up with various student groups. The majority are polite and chat away. In the distance by the lake I spy four familiar figures in a huddled under a beech tree. A dark haired Slytherin not too far from them, straying close but still keeping a distance. Eventually he gets too close. Potter disarms him using expelliarmus, levitating him in the air ready to show the gathering crowd his underpants. Taunting the Dark Arts follower. Embarrassing him. Showing him up. As only stupid teenage boys would find this funny, quite a few of the crowd end up laughing. Lily tries to step in and help him, her childhood friend. Standing between James and the upside-down Severus. "I don't want your help, you filthy little mudblood." Of all the insults, to all the people, this hurts Lily the most. Her shoulders sag, her green eyes spark fire. He tries apologising but I think that line in the sand had been drawn. James lets him down, his eyes follow Lilys' back as she storms off. Her red hair flames behind her with the billowing of her cloak. Severus attempts to follow her but a few of the lingering Slytherins step in to block him from her and from the four Marauders. As a prefect, I should have stepped in but I knew this needed to happen. Catching Siri's eye, I shake my head. Do not follow. I'm so mad at them right now for instigating it. Maybe this will learn them to stop messing with people. They've just help abolish a long-standing friendship. Okay I didn't totally approve of it but they'd survived this far. Until now. All because it's fun to mess with Snivvelus.

I catch Lily in the main hallway waiting for the stairs to change. "Red?" I approach her with caution.

"Grey." She sighs softly as I stand next to her.

"You okay?"

"Fine." Yeah, right. I give her a look knowing full well that she wasn't. Her eyes were watery and puffy. She was ready to cry.

The stairs seemed to be in our benefit today as we ascend to one of the towers. Silently she keeps pace, not questioning things. I often found that being up high in one of the towers gave me perspective on things. One of these circular rooms had comfortable chairs in with three sixty degree views of the grounds. Sitting in a square armchair she takes the one opposite. "I hate him Sylvie." I wasn't sure which him she was referring to at current point so I stay silent. "'Tuney was right. From the first day that she met him she wasn't keen on him. And now he's evil and twisted. He's no longer the boy I once knew. He's no longer my best friend. He told me everything about Hogwarts. He spent time spying on us. I floated off a swing when he finally confronted me, explaining about magic. He was from the scummy side of town. Maybe I should write to her?" I think she's talking to herself rather than to me, as if me just being there is reassuring. "What do you think Sylvie?" She runs her fingers through her hair, it cascades back to her usual straightness.

"Lily, honestly?" she nods. "Severus and you have been drifting apart for a while now. Since first year, though you both tried to make it work. You're fighting different sides. As for Tuney, your sister, there's no harm in making amends. I wish I could talk to Flora too. I think that," I hesitate to finish this, "that you may need to have words with James and Sirius. If not them then Remus and Pete may be a little more approachable. They may learn from this but I wouldn't go holding your breath. You have to talk to them. James will listen to you. He likes you, and I know you're starting to like him. You don't hate him anymore, maybe you didn't really ever hate him. Maybe it was just a front because he took an instant dislike to Severus." She goes to interject. "And I won't play Siri either. Actually, you've seen more of him than I have lately. "

By the end of the two weeks the entire of fifth and seventh years were truly zombies with so much studying and examination. On Friday lunch time, it was declared that they were all complete. A large whoop and multiple cheers echo around the hall. The next day we were all leaving again. Summer was here. We were free to go home.

Azure blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds float lazily by. The bright yellow sun warms my room, filling it with light. Minute dust particles cast tiny rainbows through the air. Beside me a very naked Siri is dozing, arm propped behind his head, the other around me, his thumb stroking my bare shoulder. It didn't look too comfortable. His hair perfectly tousled as always. Drifting summer mornings like this were a favourite of mine. Beneath the covers which stopped at my waist, our bodies intertwine. Muscular and taut with soft and fleshy. Natural. I was in my favourite place with my most favourite person. Outside the meadow hummed with life. The array of colours, smells and textures attracting stripy bumble bees, decorative fluttering butterflies, metallic tubular damselflies that hover near the stream, just trickling in the distance out of sight beyond the field. It was a land that I knew well. My inner badger was all too happy to roll around basking in the evening sun when it appeared. For every circle of his thumb upon my shoulder I mirror it with my finger upon his chest. Content. Slowly my fingers dance across his ribs, tapping lightly with the rhythm of his heart, ghosting his toned stomach. His breath catches as I play with the covers wrapped across his hips. He definitely isn't asleep. "Sylvie…" his voice is strained. A warning. I knew where it would lead to. We both did. He's wide awake now. His grey eyes dark. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder I dance my fingers further south, feather light touches upon his hip. Teasing. He's too strong and agile. I'm too willing as he flips me softly onto my back. I tangle my hands in his hair as we kiss. Long. Slow. Deep. His hands propped each side of my head. Strong thighs over gentle hips. The covers lie in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the bed. Effortlessly our bodies move. Completely in sync.

"Sylvie. Pad… Holy mother of Merlin!" We're interrupted by a shout from my door. Potter.

"Fuck Prongs." Siri attempts to cover me up in haste as we're rudely interrupted. Wrapping the duvet around me the best I could, I stay silent, my face heating up. Beside me Siri is sitting rather uncomfortably, although not making an attempt to cover up. I suppose it's nothing Potter hasn't seen before, sharing a dorm and all that.

James looks anywhere but at us. "I'll eh," he ruffles a hand through his hair. "I'll give you a bit of time to, eh, sort yourself out. I might just take Iris up on her cup of tea after all." And with that he dashes back up the tunnel, the door clicking softly behind him.

"Well that was awkward." I chuckle, all sense of romance had gone out the window.

"It could have been worse, Sylv. You could have been on top." He smirks the trademark, raising a brow. "Really would have given him a show."

I shove him lightly with my shoulder, mortified by the thought. Sighing I go about finding the clothes dotted around the room. They'd been removed in haste the afternoon before.

Around quarter of an hour later we join Potter and my mum in the kitchen for tea. Instead of the usual kettle boiling there was a large pitcher of cool lemonade on the table alongside Victoria sponge. Both Potter and Iris are chuckling over something as we enter the kitchen. Sitting down on one of the wooden chairs opposite I can't look at Potter. The amusement on his face is clear. Smug ass. My mother seems oblivious to it all. Or she's figured it out and accepted things. Or I'll get a lecture about being safe later.

Finishing the lemonade, the three of us head into the garden leaving mum to tidy up. She, as per usual, shoos us away when we offer to help. Sitting upon the grass, just in the shade of the house, it's incredibly awkward. Do we discuss what happened? Do I leave them to discuss it? Do Siri and I need to discuss it? Well no, we covered that although it may be case of being extra cautious now. Do I need to approach James? I'm not sure on the etiquette of being interrupted by your boyfriends' best mate while going at it. Nor is it something I would ever want to.

"Prongs?" Siri squeezes my hand gently.

"Pads? Miss Grey?" he looks at us out the corner of his eye. Pushing his glasses up his nose. How come I get formal naming?

"Look, Prongs." Siri runs a hand across the back of his neck. Nervous habit.

James interrupts. "Guys, it's fine. I shouldn't have barged in. I should have owled and let you know that I was coming. Or at least you both were." He snorts a little at his bad pun. "Just next time try using a silencing charm, or a locking charm on the door. You know, just in case. I don't want you guys having puppies just yet." Honestly, I didn't want puppies yet though maybe we were a bit careless and forgetful at times. Time to up the precautions on top of the potion I took for three weeks and then off a week, and take responsibility though I did have a habit of forgetting it especially while busy.

"James, please do not breathe a word of this at school. I know everyone knows, I mean it's obvious were together, together. But we don't need it actually being confirmed." I fidget with blades of grass by my leg.

"One condition, Sylvie? You help me with Evans." For once all the bravado has gone, he genuinely wants to get on with her better. Siri simply sighs as I agree.

James was all too happy to sleep in the guest room. He still chose the one on the first floor where all four boys had ended up in back at Easter. Mum had left the Gryffindor posters up, or they were stuck there. In the morning, I found him curled up I the sofa in my room with a blanket from one of the beds around him. His black hair was mussed to something akin to a mop, the ends all in knots. His circular glasses were thrown onto the floor beside the hand that was draped over the edge, fingers catching the air. The heaped fabric curls from the waist down, tucking and folding around him. The brown current jersey of Puddlemere United crumpled as her moved in his sleep. I hoped they would change the colour at some point to something more wearable, maybe a navy blue. A sleeping James was soft, relaxed and looked a lot younger than his sixteen years. Though I wouldn't go telling him that. He'd glare at you over his spectacles, quite possibly giving old Minnie a run for her money. Or he'd prank you as long as he possibly could. Just small niggly things to irritate you all day; blotting quills, constantly ravelling scrolls, text books without text. I've seen it happen. I wouldn't want to be at the receiving end of it.

A short time later we're sat in the kitchen. A flurry of wings flies through the back door. Toffee lands in front of me while the other two known owls from school in front of Siri and James. OWL results. I forgot they were coming. Going by the boys' expressions, so did they. A formal envelope; cream with a slight rough texture. A red Hogwarts wax seal. My name and address formally written. Primarily Exceeds Expectations and Outstandings in most subjects the only one I had dropped down in was Ancient Runes, receiving an Acceptable. The only ones I truly cared about was Transfig, DADA and Charms. My NEWT levels were progressing nicely anyways; I would further Potions, Herbology and Muggle Studies to cover the required five NEWTs to become an Auror. Slowly and properly I would get there. Practice makes perfect. Come the exams I would be fine.

James looks composed, a small smile dancing on the corners. Siri looks somewhat complexed, puzzlement upon his face. Something was up. He hands me the letter. All was fine as far as I could see. Similar grades to my own. The speech from the stone circle rang true. Maybe that was the issue? As far as I was aware he didn't even study. He had a natural talent for just absorbing information as it was taught. Like a sponge. Even James had to put some effort into things, except Quidditch in which he excelled. It came naturally to him. I hated flying, even from day one, that first year of compulsory flying had been enough. Siri was competent as was Pete who could keep up with James but preferred playing for fun. Remus never had a head for heights and was quite happy with two feet on the ground.

"I don't see any issues Siri."

"I got an E in Muggle Studies." He points with a jab at the top grade.

"Yeah, Exceeds Expectations. And no wonder."

He snorts lightly at this. For the past year he had been building a motorbike for muggle studies. Starting with the frame he had built everything from scratch. He and Remus had been raiding scrap yards for bits. We would often find him out at Hagrid's hut, hair up in a bun, long fingers probing and oiling various things. Black smudges across his high cheekbones. He preferred using his hands than a wand doing this. The smaller nuts and bolts becoming fluid in his grasp. These skilled fingers were good for other things too but that was a different story. He'd completed the bike just as we'd finished school before summer, somehow managing to get it running as well as doing exams.

The bike was amazing. The way the engine purrs under you, the chink of the gears as they change and the shift of power that follows. The raw energy and freedom. The way Siri grins and laughs at the pure joy of it. The wind as it flows through his hair. The fact that he built it on his own, with his bare hands and time. It was part of him. My heart swelled with joy when he showed me it, twisting and turning on a courtyard. Then somehow having magicked it so it could fly. Sitting backwards upon the seat, half straddling the bike and his lap, fingers tightly grasping the front of his jacket. His fingers knotted in my hair in the back of my head. Our mouths hungry and tongues dancing. It was also during all this that he'd taken to stress smoking. The puffs of smoke shaping as he exhaled. Now it was a habit that stuck fast. The amorentia test of fourth year had been true; cigarettes, motor oil and the musk that was only him. A heady happy combination.

The leather jacket. The motorbike. The smoking. The Doc Martens. The perfectly tousled hair. The smirk. The bad boy. The one and only Sirius Orion Black the Third. Mine.


	11. Hogwarts 1976

HOGWARTS 1976

And so, sixth year had begun. The pomp and pageantry of The Sorting Ceremony. Nervous first years entrusted in my care as prefect. Keeping the younger new prefects, Iona Murray and Flynn Rafferty, under control. New prefects have a habit of being too trigger happy. Last year I admittedly avoided it as much as possible. Iona had a Scottish lilt. Tall and slender, all flailing limbs, dark curly hair and icy blue eyes. Flynn was short and stocky, an Irish happy go lucky and constantly chuckling at something. His light brown hair usually flopped haphazardly over dark eyes. He was such a sweetie pie.

My fellow sixth was Donovan Miller. He appeared rather studious and serious and was maybe more of a Raven but his wicked sense of humour and love for singing songs and getting everyone annoyingly too join in kept him in Badger territory. He was too persuasive at getting me to play the piano in the common room while he sang silly and childish songs. His strong tones would echo around the room. His favourite repertoire was about shoving grannies off busses, girls named Jeannie McColl and of high roads and low roads. Of Irish Rovers and coming home to Caledonia and finishing with cups of kindness bidding farewell to the year gone by. Often, I would be singing along with them, or finding Minnie in the doorway, her foot tapping, hands clapping and voice singing the songs of her nation.

The seventh-year prefects and Heads of year; Arabella Winter and Nicholas Locke were engaged and done everything together. Both athletic foodies with a knack for knowing everything but never really telling how they knew or letting everyone else know apart from those involved. They were the glue of our house, keeping everyone together and getting us to communicate better. Nothing was out of bounds. They were relatable. Nico was the all-American blond and blue jock type, tall and broad, good for hugs. Long lean legs helped balance upon the broom during Quidditch, our star Chaser, rivalling James. Ella was around a head shorter, svelte and supple from her morning yoga by the lake. Narrow waisted but soft and feminine. Her ash blonde hair was always up in a ponytail, her unusual violet eyes lighting up. People always stopped in the hall, chatting away but they'd also being firm when they had places to be. I would miss their reassuring presence next year. Their legacy would be passed to myself and Donavan. If we could be half as good then all would be fine.

Ella and Nico had called a powwow the evening after the sorting ceremony in the common room along with the twenty-odd nervous looking newbies and Professor Sprout. Hot cocoa was bubbling softly on the hearth, containers of snacks dotted on the table in the centre of the ring of large chairs and beanbags. Over the course of a couple of hours we discuss their worries and problems and any issues. Any that they didn't want to discuss personally could either get approached to one of us or put in the help jar. It was something that had been in our common room since Hogwarts was founded. An enchanted jar so that when a problem was put in, someone else could take it out and help solve it. When you go back to the jar it'll appear on top where you could read the solutions and comments that others had come up with. Sometimes it's little things such as book recommendations, plant issues or lost property. Whilst others were bigger, more personal or important. The enchanted notepaper made a note of the date and how long you want to leave it in the jar. Generally, people would give it a week. But whatever the issue may be, it always answers.

The first years would be fine. They'd progress through life, just as we all had. They'd learn things that would help them both in the magical and muggle world and find friends for life. They'd be tested as people but with the right guidance would those obstacles. Just how exactly the impending war would affect them, and us, was still uncertain but as long was stuck together. It would be okay. Within days everything settled down, minus a few getting lost on the stairs as they changed. It would never not happen. Usually one of the older students or faculty would point them in the right direction.

A few days into November Siri was of age. Wizarding age. Seventeen. He'd received a watch from the Potter's as custom. To celebrate we take the bike to the muggle town about an hour from school. I knew where I was going, Adair had brought me here a few years ago when I first got into tattoos. One of the guys he had gone to school to school with, runs an ink studio. He'd done all of my designs to date including my hip which was rather awkward, plus the small initials dad had on his shoulder. IM/FI/SE. First and middle initials of our names; Iris Margaret, Flora Iris, Sylvie Ethel and the nebula on his left arm back in the day. This time it was a small one on the side of my left wrist. As we enter the studio he greets me with a hug, asking how everyone was. Alexander 'Axel' Emory was the stereotypical biker type; tall, broad, tattoos, piercings and a give no crap attitude to match. But he was talented and cool about his clients and friends. Any issue you could go to him. His brother Sebastian, Bas, owned a garage down south and was the same.

Introducing Axel to Sirius, I get settled in the chair, my arm propped on the rest awaiting Axel to start. A short time later there's a small dark pawprint about the size of a muggle pound coin upon my wrist. Siri removes his black band tee, reclining in the chair. The ink is soon etched onto the area over his heart. Another black pawprint but with a star removed in the middle, just slightly larger than my own.

Wandering about hand in hand, scarves around our necks, one red, one yellow, protecting us from the cold wind. My great coat protected me from the cold, a soft grey cashmere beanie upon my head, my honey coloured hair down my back overlapping my ears. I just hoped we would get back to the castle before the fluffy dark clouds opened. The muggle shops were full of decorations, primarily tartan details and hessian with colours to match. It was lovely and traditional and combined with the white twinkly lines it made me rather happy. If I ever had a tree of my own I'd love it like that. In the bandstand on the square, carollers were singing. Adults hurried children past shop windows as small flurries dance in the air. We stop and watch the happy rosy cheeked carollers, humming along to the songs I knew.

"Let's stay the night Sylv." His breath is warm upon my ear as he stands behind me, swaying to the music.

"Surely someone will know?" My inner prefect isn't too fond of bunking off in the muggle town.

"Probably, but the nights coming in." He shifts to my side, squeezing my hand. "And it's my birthday. And you love me?" He pouts a little, though why he questioned my affection I don't know.

"I do, of course. And I don't exactly want to make the journey and find us stuck, or out in the dark on unfamiliar roads." I wasn't exactly sure what to do. "But where will we stay?" He simply chuckles softly, pulling me away through the narrow, cobbled streets to where the bike was parked.

Just outside of town there was a B&B, quaint, quiet and cosy. The small entrance way leads to a breakfast room on the right. A narrow staircase on the left to a floor of four rooms and another staircase and floor then our own room; one of two, on the top within the attic. From what I gathered we were they youngest in a handful of guests. The room is light and warm. The inky sky and twinkly stars visible through a skylight. Triangular wooden beams crisscross the ceiling. Soft cream walls with natural accents of colour. It's incredibly soothing to be out of the cold. Oak boxes concealed radiators give of comforting heat. The plush duvet and mattress sinks as we sit upon it, removing our outside clothing and boots. The ends of my hair crinkle as they dry. Peeling off the layers we revel in the others bodies. Finding comfort, solace and love. All sense and reason goes out the window as we share heat, cold limbs moulding and melding, becoming softer within the heat of the room. Numb cold flesh slowly defrosts as body heat contains under the fluffy duvet. I was happy here, content. Just the two of us.

By morning the snow had cleared, allowing us to leave back to school. We're met by Minnie at the gates as we're locked out. Her expression says it all. We we're in deep shit. Silently we follow her, Siri pushing the bike, leaving it by Hagrid's hut. The castle was quiet as we traipse to her office. He was more familiar to it than I. On the rare occasion that I was in trouble, it was always to do with him. Professor Sprout was standing in front of McGonagall's desk. Fudge, this was serious. Sprout's usually jolly face was surprisingly unreadable. I didn't like this a single bit.

We each take a chair. The heads of houses standing in front of us, fingers steepled, gazes stern, mouths set in matching straight lines. McGonagall straightens up, her shoulders relaxing, her neck straightening, chin level. "You are both okay?" I nod once slowly in response. "What, Mr Black, Miss Grey, happened, that you were not able to communicate with us?"

Siri is looking at the floor, his mouth set in a line. Clearly being reprimanded was nothing new but this was a touch out of character when normally he'd be cheeky. Maybe he'd realised just how much we'd pushed it. Taking a deep breath, I start explaining. "Professors, yesterday we went into the muggle town. Axel has a shop there. Um, Alexander Emory, went to school with mum and dad? He does tattoos; for Sirius' birthday yesterday we paid him a visit. After a while of wandering about town the weather came in.

"Instead of attempting to come back and getting stranded we stayed overnight in a B&B. There wasn't really any way of getting in touch so staying put seemed, at the time, the most sensible option. That's why we came back this morning.

"I suppose I could have telephoned home and got mum or dad to owl, or even Axel. But at the point the priority was finding somewhere to stay the night rather than risk danger." Knotting my fingers in themselves I'm anxious for their reactions. Sirius had shifted back in the chair, arms folded, ankles crossed, staring at a point in the distance behind the two matriarchs.

Sprout looks at McGonagall who relaxes her fingers, clasping them behind her back in her usual manner. In turn Sprout also relaxes. "At least you're both safe and sound. But, I am revoking Hogsmeade permissions until mid-February. Ten weeks. I do believe that will take us to Miss Grey's birthday. Any more disruptions and it will be extended to Easter. Are we clear; Mr Black, Miss Grey?" We both nod. "Now Professor Dumbledore wants also to see you both. Dismissed."

Exiting in silence out into the corridor the atmosphere between us feeling off balance. I'm not sure what I was expecting, maybe to be shouted at, although both women don't do that. I'm not really sure that we were reprimanded as such more of the case that we were safe and used our brains. As to what we were about to face, well, frankly, it could be anything. And maybe that was the scariest part of it all.

At the griffin door we give the password, 'Catharine Wheels', stepping on the stone steps it spirals upwards. The last time I was in here was Easter past when everyone came to visit and the port key didn't happen. Dumbledore is sat behind his desk, Blaze the phoenix on its perch. "Sirius, Sylvie, please, have a seat." We do so, relaxing into the too high-backed arm chairs. "You left yesterday, Saturday November third, headed into the muggle town an hour away upon Mr Black's motorbike. Axel owled to say that you had arrived at eleven am. You both got more tattoos, paw prints, I do believe? And somehow stayed the night due to the bad weather, arriving back onto school grounds at ten am today. I firstly want to applaud you both in thinking logically and had not tried to come back in the snow. I secondly wonder if I can see the tattoos? I have a proposition for you both and you may take time to think this over."

Removing my coat, I roll my sleeve up my left arm. The external of my wrist has the day-old ink upon it. Extending my wrist to Dumbledore who had moved closer to us, taking it between long bony fingers in curiosity. My wrist was still bound in plastic wrap to keep it clean while on the bike, I'd take it off later and apply ointment to help it heal. I couldn't use magic to heal it was it would agitate and using tergeo would remove the blood but also the ink. Dad had tried this and ended up having to get it reinked. "Sylvie has her wrist, and where, may I ask, does Sirius Black, have his?" Siri watches Dumbledore evenly as he removes his coat, lifting up the tee revealing the patch of plastic over his heart. Dumbledore simply nods. Sirius drops his shirt. Dumbledore releases my wrist after inspecting it, his wrinkled face becoming amused. "And so, to the proposition. I know you are both young. I want you to think carefully over this. There is a spell that can link you both. It is, a bonding spell. It, however, need something to latch onto. Such as you're tattoos. If you were to go ahead, then whenever you need reassurance or comfort and you were to touch that site, the other would feel it. I've heard it's a warm vibrating feeling, not anything to worry about. It is unbreakable to the very end. But if you were to go ahead then it must remain a secret. I'll give you two weeks to decide. Then once they have healed we shall go ahead."

I spend that first week or so stressing over it. The proposition of being permanently bonded with Sirius. Yes, I loved him, but we were still young. What about him, would he want it? Being tied to each other forever. What if we broke up? We'd have that connection like no other. Would we in turn use it against each other? Neither of us ready to settle down. Heck, give it a decade maybe. Sirius was too rebellious to settle down. I wasn't ready for that yet either. We were both still young. And what if someone found out about it and manipulated it? Would hurting him, hurt me? If he were to be under the imperious curse and touch it, I'd feel it thinking he needed that comfort and then it could be used as a trap. We'd both hate that. One and other being used as bait.

Hours before needing to give Dumbledore an answer I find him in the astronomy tower with the help of Remus. He didn't ask questions when I told him I needed to find Siri. He left me at its base with a small hug. Spiralling upwards I have to stop a few times to catch my breath. Why did he have to pick the tallest tower? Especially when it's out of bounds, but he rarely plays by the rules. I bypass the bloody baron, who comments that Sirius was snarky and mulling over something and that it was a shame he really wasn't sorted into Slytherin. Today, he was polite though it could change within minutes. As I enter, on the other side of the solar system, he stood with his back to me. "Sylvie."

"Sirius. Hey." Was this the point where we broke up? Or do we reject Dumbledore and keep going? Or do we accept it and it's like it has always been? The formality was off putting. I shuffle round the ornament, stopping by his side. "What do you think?"

"That he's a bit mad? He wants us to be bonded for life via magical ink where in touching it would know that the other is thinking of them, bringing apparent comfort to us. Always knowing that someone is thinking of you." He runs a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, that. Secret comfort. I suppose." I play with the rings upon my fingers.

"I love you Sylv, and who knows what the future holds, you pointed that out. And knowing that you're always there, no matter what, is pretty amazing." He turns to face me, taking my hands in his own. "If I were to settle down in the distant future, I'd chose you. Always you, Sylvie. No matter how far apart this impending war takes us, I'll always come back to you." Wrapping his arms round me he places a kiss to the top of my head.

"So? I'll always love you too Siri. No matter the distance. Well, as long as you don't turn to the dark side."

He chuckles a little. "Let's do this. I shall comfort my lady, even if I cannot be with her." Cue some flailing arm gesture.

"Idiot." I smile, shaking my head. "Let's go find Dumbledore."

Winding our way through the castle hand in hand, somehow, I realise that everything will be okay. We may break up, or go our separate ways etc. but right now we were what each other had needed and wanted. And with this growing uncertainty, the world needed a little more love. And as long as no-one found out, what really, was the harm in it?

In his office, Dumbledore is once again sat behind his desk. Together we tell him that we agree to being bonded. That after another week or so the pawprints would be healed enough. He sets the date for just ten days' time. Blaze is preening his scarlet feathers. I suppose in the future he would turn to ash and a new phoenix would be born.

The ten days go faster than expected. I was nervous as we wait for Dumbledore. Outside the sky is dark, a chill in the air. The middle of November and I was a touch cold, or maybe that was nerves. My school shirt sleeve had been folded up to my elbow while Sirius stood beside me with his red tie and shirt undone. He'd be colder than what I was. Dumbledore arrives with a swish of cloaks; midnight blue and tiny silver stars. He stops in front of us, his wand poised. "Sylvie, Sirius. Repeat after me, Latin, if you will. Simul, in sempiternum, et non tenetur."

We both repeat, "Simul, in sempiternum, et non tenetur." As we do so her draws a pink line from the tip of his wand from Sirius' chest to my outstretched wrist, our hands joined between us.

"And again, in Scottish Gaelic, Còmhla, gu bràth, tha sinn a 'dol."

"Còmhla, gu bràth, tha sinn a 'dol." Another pink line from my wrist to his chest.

"And for the final time, in English. Together, forever, we are bound."

"Together, forever, we are bound." The pink line circulates between the two contact points getting stronger in colour, doing two full loops in a vivid magenta shade before vanishing. My wrist feels warm. Touching it cautiously with my right forefinger, Sirius looks alarmed, his hand instantly going to his chest. It worked. Trying it the other way round my wrist heats and buzzes slightly under touch.

Bonded for life as teenagers. Please don't either of us regret this.


	12. January 1977

**A/N Contains upsetting and emotional content. x**

JANUARY 1977

Just after Christmas we had started in the Apparition classes. Twelve galleons for a twelve-week course to feel like your insides were being jumbled and squashed and sucked from every direction. From the get go the theory was drummed into us. Destination. Determination. Deliberation. One must be deliberately determined to reach ones' desired destination. The anti-apparition charms on the Great Hall, lifted for the hour each week. Around half of those that manage to fully apparate puked the first time in doing so. The noises range from a muffled pop to a backfiring car. The destination had to be that of somewhere incredibly familiar in order to have a clear vision of it although photos would also work. Why bother with it at all if it was so horrible? I didn't know but suffered anyways.

Over the holidays, I'd spent most of it tucked up in bed feeling sick. Iris fussing between myself and Flora who was barely human. Now I was back to school I still wasn't great. I was off food, barely keeping anything down. Constantly feeling crap and snapping at everyone because of this. Iris had an inclining it may be muggle food poisoning or bug. I was constantly tired with occasional headaches. There was a part of me that suspected it to be something else but would cause all sorts of problems. I'd be up shit creek without a paddle. Mimmy our house elf had taken to giving me ginger snaps, and often appeared with more throughout the day to sate me. These helped a little and allowed me to get to classes without feeling too sick. How could we have been so careless?

I was on my way to Charms from Transfiguration when I come across funny, my vision blurs and head feels light. Sharp pains shoot across my stomach as if I'm being stabbed. The next time I open my eyes I find myself in the hospital wing with an anxious looking Pomona sat beside me and a perplexed looking Poppy Pomfrey at the end, a clipboard in her hand. The wing was empty, which I was grateful for. I didn't fancy fuss. Madam Pomfrey gives me a small smile, Professor Sprout squeezing my right hand tightly. Clearly, I was going to get a bollocking, although it'd probably be polite as Poppy sighs softly. "Miss Grey, now that you are awake we have some things to discuss. Mr Black is waiting outside. I'm going to call him in and we shall continue." My heart clenches in my chest. He wouldn't be happy. We're totally going to get a lecture instead, maybe I could zone out. I really just wanted to cry, or sleep, or both. Anything but face this. Biting on my lip I glance at Sprout who once again squeezes my hand in reassurance.

Poppy comes back to my bedside followed by Sirius who looks rather pale and frazzled and a touch panicked, with Professor McGonagall. Shit. Sirius takes the seat on my left, McGonagall standing behind him, hands resting upon his shoulders lightly. Pomfrey takes to the end of my bed once more. "Professors, children. As we all know, three days ago Miss Grey collapsed. Today, she is awake. I've spent the last three days monitoring her. She arrived in her unconscious and bleeding and from those students that were around she was noted to clutch her lower abdomen before collapsing. From examining her I can confirm that she was pregnant, around ten weeks, but sadly, has now lost the child." Tears were in her eyes, as were Sprouts. Salty wet paths trail down my cheeks. There's a lump in my throat. My chest feels tight. Like I can't breathe. As if I'm drowning. "Sylvie will need to stay here for a few more days of observation and time to heal naturally. Shall we give Miss Grey and Mr Black a moment?"

The three women leave for the medical office. I scrub my eyes with the base of my hand, trying to rid the tears. We should have been more careful. I should have taken the potion more accurately.

"Sylv?" his voice cracks, turning my head to face him his eyes were puffy and red. Sirius Black never cried, yet he was crying now. Silent tears down his high cheekbones. "Did you know?"

"Not really, I was sick but thought it was a bug that wasn't going away. Maybe had a tiny inkling but didn't want to believe it. I didn't," I simply shrug, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry."

He nods, running a thumb across my forehead, placing a gentle kiss upon it. Closing my eyes, I savour the softness of his lips, the reassurance of him being there before relaxing in the chair once more. "I know, I understand. I love you Sylv. Just no kids yet."

"Nope. We're just going to have to be extra careful. You do realise, counting back, give or take, this goes back to your birthday."

"Shit." I simply nod at his outburst. "Maybe, grudgingly, we should stop for a while? You know, more precautions on top of your potion."

"I'd recommend that entirely." The three women are back, we jump slightly, startled. The movement sends pain through my lower abdomen. I have to breathe deeply through my nose to control it.

McGonagall shares a look with the two motherly women. "In fact, Miss Grey, Mr Black; we have decided that the entire year group plus fifth and seventh years could do with a small amount of education in this, possibly an update to some of the students. Just so it doesn't happen again in a hurry. As Mr Black put it, more precautions. Once Miss Grey had healed and back to full strength it shall be organised. Not a word to anyone about this, or what has happened." She turns on her heels and stalks out. Sprout gives me a comforting hug, patting Siri on the arm before following.

"How do you feel Sylv?" All traces of the mischievous teen were currently gone.

"In what sense Siri? Physically; crap, sore, tired. Mentally; emotional, confused and unsure. Emotionally; I'm not sure. I want to cry or fight back or hit something just to try and express it. I'm questioning so much right now, there's so many what ifs and unknowns. I'm not sure how to handle it. What about you? You've basically just been told that you could have been a dad, even though we weren't ready. Then it's been taken away from you."

"I could have lost you, Sylv. I wasn't allowed to see you or anything. They wouldn't tell me anything."

He gets up and starts to pace, four long strides, turn on heels, four back. "Then it's like, oh you were bloody stupid enough to get pregnant. Or even risk it. We should have been more careful. But no, I don't do careful. I do stupid and reckless. I need a damn cig now." He shouts, hands buried in his hair.

Stopping in front of the bed, his voice back to normal. "I don't want to be a dad Sylv. Mine wasn't exactly great either." His eyes meet mine as he whispers. "I'm glad that we lost the baby. I'm too young for this crap."

"Well no shit Sherlock. I'm not jumping for joy either. Though I disagree about the baby." Salty tears hit my cheeks once more. "I'm not ready to be a mum but we know the consequences." My voice becomes a whisper. "We lost our baby. Sirius. Nothing will ever change that." I don't even attempt to wipe the tears that blotch the sheets, now pulled up to my chin. "Go for a cig, Sirius." I avert my eyes from him to a spot on the far wall.

I felt lost and empty. As if a part of me had been taken away and now I wouldn't be whole. The unknown and unnamed child whose father was a reckless bad boy who I loved with all of my being. I know we weren't ready for kids, we discussed it often enough. Always the future and never the present. I was glad that there was a reason for being so sick. I got where Sirius was coming from but right now I'd never felt so alone. And then now everyone over the age of fifteen was to be getting a lecture on safe sex due to us. It was a rather mortifying lesson. I wanted nothing more to hug and hold Sirius close, to be comforted and feel like he really did care. I knew he cared, that's why he stressed out but we definitely weren't ready for happily ever after just yet. Touching the pawprint, I give it a moment to see if he responds. Just as Madam Pomfrey return with a glass of water, the paw vibrates slightly, heating up a touch. Dumbledore was right. It's comforting to know that he was there, even if it was outside somewhere. Though it'd look funny I suppose, a cig in one hand, the other up or down his shirt reaching his heart.

I spent two days in the hospital wing plus an extra day in the common room. The Badgers were a comfort, offering to help in any way they could. It seemed to be a thing.

It was a week after that when we gathered in the Great Hall. A mass lecture of sorts. A congregation. Rows of benches, those used at mealtimes, line the hall side to side facing the faculty table. As we fill the benches the heads of house and Madam Pomfrey sit at the table. The rest of the student body from fifteen to eighteen year olds soon get a harsh introduction and refresher, and rather embarrassing at times too, to sex ed. Some immaturity comes into it, easing tensions and awkwardness. Both magical spells and potions and muggle contraceptives, a relatively puzzling thing to pure bloods.

We were then split into year groups and given more suitable and in depth information into various other subjects. As we were older we were encouraged to ask questions and discuss things with each other openly between genders. Relationships come under scrutiny and curiosity. Inter house and inter year relationships were surprisingly more common than everyone first thought. Relationships had developed in different ways over time. Those more experience shared with those less experienced what they learned and learning from others of the same level. Any awkwardness soon vanished. Within our year our experiences, wants, needs and preferences towards things varied immensely. The afternoon seemed to bring us closer, and I suppose it brought me slight closure too. Recently, from what I gathered, we weren't the only ones who had found ourselves expecting. Nor was it an uncommon thing generally. Where teenagers integrated on a personal level, especially when boarding and genders mixed more than they would in a normal muggle high school. Then statistically speaking the chances of teenagers finding ways around the gender segregation becomes sneaky, then the chances of teen pregnancy increases. Or something along those lines. Basically, teens mix more and pregnancy risk increases even with ancient spells protecting the girls' dorms.

It was well and truly, lesson learned.


	13. May 1977

MAY 1977

The first day of Summer was a Sunday. A usually very lazy day but due to family heritage I felt compelled to celebrate instead. Once upon a time Beltane was used to celebrate the start of summer and taking the cattle out to the grazing pastures. To me, it was a chance to relax and reflect. To think about goals and moving forward.

Before dawn approaches I make my way down to the stone circle in a silvery grey velvet shift dress with my usual boots upon my feet. My hair was loosely split at the crown and French plaited each side down my back. A crown of white primroses around my head. Reaching the circle, I take the bunch of hawthorn sticks from my bag along with a lighter I'd 'borrowed' from Sirius. Placing the bundle upon the centre stone I set them alight. They ignite and burn slowly. Taking the flask and square flat pan out the bag I place the non-stick pan upon the fire, pouring the thick liquid into it. Leaving it to bake I remove a scroll from my bag, upon it a family hand me down rhyme. It was simple to say aloud, even as children we joined in. Around the embers and smoke I twist and twirl reciting the rhyme.

Beltane fires burn,

For Summer is here in turn,

Pastures old and new,

Of the morning dew.

As we sing,

As we dance,

Bless us all,

Another chance.

Over the Beltane fire.

With the last line, I jump the rock through the smoke and over the small fire, small ashes blowing away just as dawn breaks. I had timed it perfectly. I was so caught up in it all that I didn't realise I'd had an audience. Old Minnie and Dumbledore, alongside my friends. Grinning I motion for them to come closer and share the hot bannoch with them. At home my mother would be shouting for my father but calling it a girdle scone. Minnie had brought more bannoch's to share along with some fruity jams to go alongside the small pot of honey retrieved from my bag. Dumbledore transfers the small fire into a small gold conical torch, the fire in the Great Hall would be lit by it as would the common room fires. The hearths of the fires had the other sacred eight woods of Beltane in them. Birch and rowan, ash and willow, alder and oak, holly and hazel. They would be used to light a bonfire tomorrow night after the May Day celebrations.

Dunking the bannoch into the jam and honey it coats the crumbly sweetbread. Breakfast at dawn. Celebrating Gaelic tradition. It was nice to be able to share it with friends and respected elders. My mother's side of the family had a habit of handfasting on Beltane, being betrothed for a year and a day. They use heritage tartan ribbons from each clan to tie the knot. It's tied then untied it represents them remaining together at free will. They'd toast with mead over the bonfire. All rather ceremonious.

Back in the castle breakfast is being served. I look a bit odd being the only one not in uniform. Both McGonagall and Dumbledore tip their chalices my way after the hawthorn torch lights the great fire. It wasn't all bad. I was allowed to respect various traditions and history as I pleased in various depths and shades.

The following day the front lawn was decked out with a marquee and trestle tables with picnic foods. In the centre of the lawn stood a large birch pole with yellow and white ribbons fluttering in the breeze. Each house had two representatives, one of each gender plus two first years of each gender. For us, Ella and Nico plus Tallulah Jakobs and Zachary Richie. Four Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Sixteen in total. The guys would take the external yellow strands dancing anti clockwise. The girls with white going clockwise. All rotating and weaving to create patterns down the pole in time to folksy music. A world away from my private Celtic fire jumping.

At mid-day, the festival begins. All classes suspended. Out of uniform we could be any school celebrating. It was incredibly mild, even in the highlands of Scotland. I still had my docs upon my feet, as did Siri. While I had a black and white micro checked shift dress on, he had his usual jeans plus a rock band vest top. His constellation tattoo on full show, though most people wouldn't know about the one upon his chest or its magical properties. The five of us were sat under their usual beech tree by the lake, watching the May Day committee prance about the pole. Set more towards the lake stood the bonfire, tree branches as thick as my leg propped against each other creating a pyre. The hawthorn ashes had been scattered across it and would be set alight at seven pm. Accordion notes float our way, a soft beat from the drums, bagpipes squee every so often along with a twang of a fiddle. I wasn't too fond of folk but it was better than nothing.

The warm afternoon dwindles by in a haze of banter and food. Siri was sketching with charcoal upon squares of parchment. Remus was reading Tolkien's The Hobbit, thumb propped in the centre, the other bending the page as it turns. James was playing with a small muggle power ball, throwing it in the air and catching it. Pete was scribbling furiously on lined paper, though blocked it when we as so much as paid him any amount of attention. We'd settled back at the tree after filing through the marquee for soggy sandwiches and warm squash as per custom of British traditions. Harriet, Marlene and Lily and Alice followed by Frank, joins us under the shade. Observing the other mingling students from the distance was nice. Years and houses scatter the green space, families and friends relaxing in the sunshine.

Around quarter to seven a faint glow starts from the main doors. The torch procession had begun, the flame from the one I had started in the early hours of yesterday. Each of the Maypole students with a tealight in a jar follows Dumbledore with a large golden torch. Students huddle around the unlit fire, creating a split for the procession. The Beltane Bonfire and its various woods ignite in a golden burst as Dumbledore tips the flame. The various trees emit a woodsy scent with hints of the original. There seemed to be something innately magical about it yet still grounding. The shivers down my spine seemed to flow though the inked vines, weaving and cascading. It was if I were coming home.

Here, at Hogwarts, I was home.


	14. Kings Cross 1977

KINGS CROSS. SEPTEMBER 1ST 1977

Our very final train journey North for the start of school was upon us. It was bitter sweet. Standing upon the platform I reminisce over bygone years. As nervous looking first years' huddle, I recall being just as small and young. Currently that felt like a lifetime ago. The boys were already sprawled out in their usual carriage, as they had been for six years now. James had shunned the prefects' carriages along with Remus. The girls had nabbed the next one to it; Lily, Marlene and Alice alongside myself and Harriet. Making sure the first years had everything stowed away properly as I make my way down the train towards them. The boys pull faces as I poke my head around the door. Idiots. At precisely 11oclock the whistle goes, pistons release steam and the heavy wheels slowly turn. This was it. Our final year in the comfort of education.

Northwards the scarlet train chuffs. Hours fly by. Around the halfway point there's a kerfuffle from next door. Stepping out of the compartment into the carriage vestibule I find the trolley lady standing with her hands upon her hips. A furious look cast upon her face. Her soft face is furrowed, her dark eyes flashing. If steam could come out of her ears it would be doing so. The boys are cowered against the window, practically sitting upon the others knees. Their faces are pale in colour, drained, and seemingly a bit scared. It was rather odd. "Excuse me Miss…" I turn to the steaming Honeydukes staff member. "Sorry, I don't know your proper name. But what exactly has happened? You see, somehow, James is Head Boy and Remus is a prefect. Pete's mousy and Sirius is well, Sirius. Are they in trouble?"

She seemed to soften slightly as she looked away from them towards me. "No dearie, everything is fine now. I don't take too keenly on students trying to escape, sorry, get off, before we reach the destination." She pats my arm as grannies do.

"You guys tried to get off the train?" Lily appears by my side looking quizzically at them. "What on earth made you think that it would be a good idea? Actually, don't answer that." Turning to the trolley witch I apologise, "So, how did you stop them?" The boys' faces look alarmed at this.

"Simple dearie. This," she takes a step back turning her hands into long knife-like claws. I instantly take a step back, as does Lily. The boys are still huddled together. "No need to worry dearie, its only used to scare people. Anything from the trolley?"

Shaking our heads Lily and I dart back into the cabin, locking the door firmly shut. Never cross the trolley witch. The granny looking women was no tea and biscuits.

I get emotional as we changed into our robes for the final time. The yellow lining of my cloak catches my eyes. A proud Hufflepuff. I cry more as I knotted the yellow and black tie around my neck, tucking it under my collar. Dry soundless sobs hurt my chest as I pin my prefect badge to my chest, the spike pricking my finger. Fudge. I probably looked a right state, my eyes would be red and puffy and my face blotchy. But I didn't care right now. This was an emotional time. Lily appears at my side, giving me a small knowing smile, pressing her head onto the side of my own in a sort of hug.

Boarding the horseless carriages for the final time we dwindle from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. Separating into houses for the final sorting ceremony that we would witness, we await the new arrivals in anticipation. The annoying hat sings its song about facing demons together before doing its thing. The influx of first years are still nervous, their eyes seeking the familiar. I feel so old right now although these eleven year olds look more mature, less baby faced, than what we did. Once though it all we sing the school song in various tunes; hoggy warty Hogwarts. Why couldn't it have been better?

In the common room, someone had pinned a calendar upon one of the walls with a note stating it was for seventh year use only. In this there were dates already filled in. Various holidays plus NEWTs. A Halloween party, A Christmas party and a Spring Fling scattered through the months. The big one after NEWTs, was graduation, which made my heart heavy.

Classes were harder this year, even with two years prep under my pointy black hat. In free periods and after hours we were snowed under with homework and extra tutorials. The only time that I saw the marauders was at mealtimes and passing in between classes. Or witnessing a prank; their backs moving away from the crime scene. I did note that James had calmed down, no more hexing for fun. And that the Head status had brought he a Lily a touch closer. Small things that those outside of the social circle may not pick up on. Fingers brushing, softer words, eyes lighting up in unison. They didn't hate each other.

Just four weeks later the invitations for our Halloween dance was dropped off by a Slytherin girl who was part of the committee organising it. Each house had a holiday dance to organise this year. Opening the silver envelope sealed with an orange cobweb wax, I find a soft grey coloured card with lace details and black script. It requests that Miss Sylvie Grey is invited to the Sensual Seventh Year Dance. October 31st 7pm. Formal and flirty attire must be worn in the following colours; black, grey, silver, red, orange and purple. There was also a warning to avoid inviting anyone below sixth.

The Snakes were keeping schtum to any more specifics, other than saying we should take note of the invitation and use it as inspiration. Grey scale plus flame colours. Script, lace and cobwebs. Fluid. Sensual, flirty, gothic. Black lace I could do, it was a primary part of my wardrobe as of late. But what else to put with it? I had a month to figure that out. I owl Iris for ideas to what else I could wear. She got back to me a week later. At breakfast in the second week of October a parcel arrives. Taking it back to the dorm I find layers of light and dark grey tulle. Shaking it out Iris has made a long flowy skirt from it. Tiny rhinestones scatter throughout catching the light. It was feminine, ethereal and just the answer. My mother worked wonders.

As Halloween appears as does the heritage Samhain, the end of the harvest. The opposite of Beltane, using fir tree bonfires and eating seasonal food, giant beef steaks and apples in every way possible along with hazelnuts. The cattle would be brought home. In school, there was a small bonfire lit in the stone circle, and the same torch procession as Beltane had been. It started at dawn, a freezing cold windy morning though I'd watched it from the warmth of the castle as Hagrid had joined Dumbledore and McGonagall. Afterwards I had gone back to bed for an hour or so.

By breakfast large pumpkins were settled into the corners of the hall and a large buzz of chatter from the eldest students filled the room. Morning lessons drag out, occupied by discussions of hair and makeup. The sole lesson after lunch goes straight over my head. Going by the multiple blank expressions around the room, we were thoroughly distracted beyond concentration. The Minister of Magic could be flying upon the back of a large pig and I don't think we would notice. The giant squid from the black lake could be dancing about for all we could currently care. Our focus was upon the event that night.

By mid-afternoon I was standing in front of the full-length mirror in the dorm. My eyelids had been coated in a fine silver powder and softened smudged liner. My lips had been smeared bright scarlet. I slip into a backless lace bodysuit and adjusting the straps upon my shoulders. Pulling them comfortably tight so I would be fully supported and wouldn't spill out the top of the velvet edged sweetheart neckline. The handmade floor length tulle skirt is next, stepping into it and sliding it up to my waist. It's incredibly soft, light and twirly. As I swish I notice that it splits up to my right thigh, Iris hadn't mentioned it. The blossom flower is just peeking when I move, the pale pink catching eyes if you were looking. Using gas cylinder curlers, I style more waves into my hair, Harriet helping with the back as per usual.

She'd grown into her curvaceous figure. Her small waist being defined one way or another. A true hour glass shape. I was envious of her curves, being rather rectangular I wished, some days, for more shape. But I knew that some girls wished for my slim figure too. Her relationship with Pete was entirely adorable. He was funny in a quiet way, she always found him amusing. Her girly giggle often could be heard. He'd built her up, brought out that inner confidence within her. They were so in love. Pete is a good guy and gets over shadowed by the trio of Lions. Today she was another tea dress, deep purple in colour. The satin shimmered under the copper lighting, a sweetheart shape under the black lace illusion neckline, her waist drawn with a silver ribbon to match her kitten heels. Her dark hair was up in a bun with black cobweb pins edged with silver glitter holding it in place. Her eyelids were dark grey and smoky with a touch of fine glitter. She looked lovely, ethereal rather than sexy or gothic, like a dark fairy.

Spritzing my hair with hair spray then perfume, I let it fall, the waves soft against the bareness of my back. Harriet takes my hand, making me twirl in circles. Laughing, its moments like this that I treasure. She uses a camera to take a magical photograph, capturing the moment. "Sylvie, where are your shoes?" A look of puzzlement crosses her face.

Stopping and catching my breath I pull a box from under my bed. Inside were soft over the knee black block heeled boots. The pliable suede is cool against my legs as I tug them on. In this I feel invincible. Like some sort of fae queen ready to take on the world. If only I had wings, delicate dark lace or shimmering gossamer ones of course. Unhooking a cloak off the post of my bed I drape it over my shoulders. Fastening the simple silver chain around my neck I pull the hood up. The lace covered satin glides to the floor, swishing and rustling and it contacts with the tulle.

The Weird Sisters were drifting down the hallway as we left the basement. The double doors to the Great Hall were held open. A twisted floral metal archway stood over the doors, decorated with red roses, something that a muggle would have in their garden. It reminded me of my headboard back home. The large room was illuminated by floating candles casting shadows upon the swathes of velvet draped upon the walls. White pumpkins encased in black lace dot about the room. The warm scent of cinnamon lingers. Tall candelabras are decorated with roses and pearls. Lace decorated jam jars have white roses in them. Enchanted black lace bats float in the rafters. Tiny ornate silver metal spiders dangle from the ceiling. Skulls encrusted with diamonds and pearls scatter across the tables on the edges of the room. Each of the four corners of the ceiling are draped with fine glittery lace cobwebs. Grey lace tablecloths are encrusted with more spiders and roses on the loose ends over the long wooden tables. Stacked place in monochromatic colours are stacked in towers on each table. Food would be served later.

At the far end of the hall, where the professor table would normally be, was a bar. Firewhisky, Butterbeer and muggle cocktails in various lurid colours were being served by four ethereal looking women, possibly descendants of Veela. To the end of the right-hand side of it was a long queue. On further inspection, it was a chocolate fountain with snacks. The usual brown gloop was blood red; charmed or food colouring I wasn't sure. Skipping into the other lines for the bar I order a Black Magic from the chalkboard behind. Sipping it I find it's a black cherry martini with edible shimmer through it. I order another for Harriet who'd queued for the fountain, swapping a cocktail for a skewer of gloopy strawberries which I eat before it drips too much.

We spot Lily first; her red hair flicking behind her. James was by her side, the trio moving to the music beside them. I observe them form a distance. Evans had poured herself into a fitted red lace floor length dress with tiny black sparkles which caught the light. The boys were in blazers and various colours of ties. James was in top to toe black, a red square poking from his chest pocket. Pete had matched Harriet in purple. Remus in orange had matched Marlene. Siri had gone up a notch. A dark velvet blazer with grey lapels and cuffs. A white shirt with a darker shade of grey narrow tie and paisley print pocket square. His boots were on his feet with the usual low-slung jeans. Damn. Looking up he catches my eye, raising his glass of neat whiskey to me and then his lips.

Strutting over to him I remove the hood. The room was warm with mingling bodies. Handing him the cocktail I shrug off the cloak, placing it upon a nearby chair. Long fingers shift my hair across my shoulder before tracing a cool finger down my spine. A warm mouth upon that place just below my ear on top of the Celtic star tattoo. Soft fabric presses against my back, a hand upon my hip. Knowing. Teasing. Familiar. Sirius. Twisting round I wind my fingers through his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips taste of the whiskey; warm and spicy. Moving onto the dancefloor our bodies move as one.

The night flies by in a shuffle of close dancing and a flow of alcohol.

Stealing away into an alcove around midnight we reconnect. His hand upon my thigh, the other on the base of my back. Closer. My hands knotted into his hair. Mouths connected. Hungry. We'd been in this alcove so many times now it was familiar. Settling into a dance of touch, a streak of red hair and black messy hair stumble by in a tangle of limbs, disappearing into the next window.

It finally had happened.


	15. December 1977

DECEMBER 1977

Once again snow covered the Highlands of Scotland. Cold slashing wind and sleet made moving around the grounds difficult. Sitting in the classroom we were wrapped up in multiple layers under our cloaks. Woolly scarves pulled over red noses. Fuzzy hats over numb ears. It made hearing hard but it was necessary. Large drifts made it nigh on impossible to be outside. The greenhouses were out of bounds for Herbology. Even magic was struggling against mother nature. Hagrid though, didn't mind as much, keeping the path to his hut clear with a large shovel. He'd felled and brought in twelve Douglas fir trees into the Great Hall, the comforting pine scent erupting as you enter, tiny white candles dotting the branches.

On the morning of the Gryffindor party; festive theme focusing on jewel tones and sparkle. I receive a letter from my mother apologising that I wasn't to come home for the holidays due to my father being rather ill. The cough he had all year was gradually getting worse and that she gave me permission to go elsewhere, spending it with friends. Promising to catch up soon.

Adair being ill worried me. His cough and wheeziness often left him breathless. Seemingly as of late it was worse. This wasn't reassuring. The natural energy he had was waning. He would still be adamant that he was fine and be going into work. He would be doing his best to cover it up and keep going. Stubborn but a trooper.

The evening soon came. I was dressed in a loose tee shirt dress in a lovely bluey silver velvet with black opaque tights and the dressy block heels I bought yonks ago. My long hair was piled loosely in a messy bun upon the top of my head, secured with glittery ties. With barely any make up on and a slick of rosy pink lipstick, I felt comfortable and relaxed without being too dressy. Beside me Harriet had a lovely round neck red tea dress on with a black embedded belt and piping. Her hair was in large bouncy curls, a red sparkly bow pinning it to one side and black kitten heels upon her feet. Cynth was striding about in some designer gown, a gorgeous teal blue colour and a train which meant she needed about a foot of space surrounding her in order not to step on it. Misty's dark straight hair created a curtain around her. Today she was in an airy dress, layers of red tulle and net scattered with silvery and clear rhinestones floated from a fitted black bodice. Amber on the other hand was in simple black bootcut trousers, a three-quarter sleeve silver sequin jumper and grey ankle boots. Her cropped hair was currently jet black with a blue shimmer. Several of her piercings were embedded with rubies.

The Great Hall had once again been decorated. Entering under a brick archway with stockings hanging from the top like a fireplace. The Christmas trees were now decorated with satin red bows and red tartan ribbon and stripy candy canes. Just like those in the muggle town last year. Each corner had stacks of cardboard boxes painted to look like towers of presents, alternating with each houses' colours. Admittedly the red and gold of Gryffindor, the green and silver of Slytherin and the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw all looked more festive than the yellow and black of ours although someone had thought to add sparkle to the black bits in an attempt to jazz it up.

The bar was once again set on the site of the professors table serving mulled wine and sherry, Firewhisky and butterbeer along with hot cocoa with flavoured liqueur. A starburst on the blackboard behind it suggested trying eggnog, some gloopy and frothy looking substance. Large barrels of warming and inviting cider were propped either side of the board. An array of food stuffs was perched upon empty barrels either side. Cinnamon sticks, apple slices and mints, marshmallows, cocoa powder and tiny gingerbread men.

The high ceiling had various sparkly baubles draped from it, hanging via lengths of satin ribbon tied in bows to hold the ornament, just out the reach of even the tallest heads. Hagrid was lumbering around dressed as Father Christmas, pulling small boxes filled with Honeydukes sweets from a large sack. Vintage looking lanterns were hung on the snow scene enchanted walls; I suppose it was mirroring outside.

Red cloths drape over the tables. Various bowls of sweets piled high. Platters of flaming Christmas pudding. Stacks of mince pies which I personally didn't like. Slices of turkey with all the trimmings on long rectangular plates. Mountains of constantly warm roast potatoes scattered with salt. Jugs of gravy for dunking or pouring. Lavish mountains of profiteroles and chocolate eclairs. Crumbly meringues drizzled with sauce. A massive yule log took up a full table, dusted with icing sugar and being served with a choice of ice cream, custard or whipped cream by various house elves including Mimmy who had a headband stretched across her head with foam antlers on it. She grins and waves in seeing me.

In the right-hand corner, behind the doors was a large sleigh and a backdrop of the north pole. A few feet in front of them was a photographer from the Daily Prophet. Beside him an assistant who was passing and organising props from a hanging rail or box. From hidden speakers, muggle Christmas songs played, alternating between poppy chart stuff and classic carols.

The large hearth had been lit. Lengths of holly and ivy twisted along the mantelpiece. Baskets either side contain small palm sized crackers, in pulling these are small joke type things from Zonkos, similar to those in the muggle ones. Dungbombs, hiccough sweets and tie dye tongues. Various enchanted muggle things like never ending spinning tops. Tiny flicking frogs that would turn into real ones mid-air causing a touch of chaos until Dumbledore fixed them so by the time they landed they would be plastic once more. Paper hats enchanted to turn to metal crowns of the same colour.

Siri is propping up the bar, swirling whiskey around his glass looking a bit glum despite all the celebrations. James and Lily, I noted as I perched on a stool beside him ordering a warm cider, were busy making full use of the mistletoe booth. Summoning a cinnamon stick mentally it scoots along millimetres above the bar. Swirling it in the cider I nudge Siri lightly with my shoulder. Today he has a red shirt under the usual jacket, jeans and boots, the top couple of buttons open. "Why so glum Sirius?"

"This, it's so much. Too much. Christmas is still strange, Sylv. Too affectionate for the Noble House of Black. I'm still getting used to it. At least I won't be there this year, just like the past three."

"It's a lot of stuff to absorb, love. But it's supposed to be fun. Come," I hop down from the stool taking his hand. "Let's go and have photos done and see if we can bribe Hagrid for more sweet boxes."

Sighing he chuckles, taking my hand as Remus places a party hat on his head. Remus instantly takes it off as Siri glares at him for ruining his hair. It would be funny but I knew how serious Sirius was over his hair. Swiping another couple boxes from Hagrid's bag, I mentally float them quickly into the ceiling when it was open and tucking them out of sight behind a beam. On the sleigh, I choose him a white beard, which I take a couple of minutes to recover from after laughing. Reciprocating that he chooses a reindeer headband like the one Mimmy had one and a flashing red nose. I was not amused. Pulling faces at the camera we struggle to keep a straight face. James and Lily soon join us, sitting behind. James chose a top hat with a holly in it, holding a cardboard carrot on a stick to his nose. Lily had found a metallic cone hat, the elastic tucking under her chin and a hooter which she kept blowing in James' face much to his annoyance although he did keep laughing. I'd get copies of those for my magical photo cube that the twins had gotten me for a birthday past.

Midnight soon comes around. The Lions Christmas Party had been a hit. I do remember to shift the sweet boxes from their hiding spot before we leave.

Our gang isn't going home for Christmas. Fleamont and Euphemia were in the States so James and Sirius couldn't stay. Lyall had wrote to Remus to say he wasn't to come home, naturally Remus was hurt by this but resigned to understanding why. His father was settled in a muggle village in the Midlands. Lily's parents had died a couple of year ago and Petunia wanted nothing to do with her. If I ever met her I couldn't say I wouldn't exactly be nice. Pete was supposed to be at his mother's in Yorkshire but she was ill and in St Mungo's recovering. There were only two options really left; spending our last Christmas here at Hogwarts or going down to London to stay in Sirius' flat he bought with his uncles' inheritance.

Cynthia was off to the Caribbean with her parents. Two weeks in the baking hot sun sipping cocktails on a beach. Wishful thinking although I probably would miss the traditionalism of it all. The twins were back home spending it with their dad this year as they had stayed with their mum last year. The joys of a divorce. Harriet had simply apparated home instead of catching the train. It was a big affair in the Becker household both sets of grandparents would be there plus many aunts, uncles and cousins.

The date of Christmas itself had set alarm bells off. Christmas day was due on the full moon. A Ravenclaw student in our year, Sybil Trelawney, had predicted it would be completely full to the nth degree around 1.50pm. Therefore, Moony would need to be in the shrieking shack from about dawn on the big day for a full twenty-four hours until early boxing day morning. It's a rather depressing thought. Miss Evans had worked Moony out back in the middle of last year. Knowing roughly when the full moon was set to be about and made sure to give him chocolate. A certain purple muggle brand was his favourite, partial to a rather large block of the plain stuff. As there was only a dozen or so staying the six of us came up with the concept of having Christmas on the eve. Taking the idea to Dumbledore and Minnie he fully supports providing I were to share a dorm for the holidays with Lily.

Three days into the holidays Lily and James apparated into London to catch up with her sister and her muggle boyfriend. From what I gathered it hadn't gone too well. Although patched it up by the end of that week so they were speaking. Petunia and her boyfriend were to be married on New Year's Eve, although she'd foregone having Lily as her bridesmaid. This had understandably upset her. We would see how the wedding panned out, though I can't see it being a joyous occasion.

The morning of the twenty-fourth we sneak into the boys' dorm in our pyjamas, hovering presents up the winding stairs with our wands. The four boys are sprawled over two beds. Pete is in his own, curled up in a ball right at the bottom covered in blankets, the pillow pulled with him creating a cocoon. James, Remus and Sirius were a tangle of limbs in what I presumed to be James' bed as it's surrounded by various Quidditch memorabilia. All three boys were in various degrees of undress. James had red stripy bottoms on, his upper body lean with years of playing Quidditch. Remus had a full set of blue button downs, the top button undone. Siri was in his black boxer shorts, I was actually surprised that he had anything on, usually preferring to go au natural. Evans and I share a look, both having smirks on our faces.

Lowering the presents in the middle of the room we creep round to Pete's bed first. Nudging him awake we press fingers to our lips so he would stay quiet. As he wakes he rubs his eyes with the side of his fist. Such a childish gesture. He simply grins when he sees us, stretching before pulling us both in for a gentle hug, whispering Merry Moony Christmas.

Pointing at a ball of parchment screwed up in the bin with my wand I flick it towards the three sleeping boys, "Waddiwasi." I whisper. It hits Remus on the back of the head gently. It's something similar to the Oppugno jinx. Pete muffles a chuckle behind his hands. Lily rolls her eyes but follows suit. A few wads of paper later we strengthen the impact a notch. Eventually Remus wakes up as our chuckles get louder, realising the mountain of paper balls were there he curses muggle swears and throws them back, laughing as we dodge them, send more his way from our hiding place behind one of the other beds. As he moves James and Siri awaken, looking alarmed at Lily and I being in the room. Both sets of dark hair stick up; Potters was naturally like that. Siri's really wasn't although I'd seen it often enough to know how much work he'd put in to make it sit the way it did. He would deny all of that to anyone of course.

In seeing the presents both boys are suddenly awake, pouncing on the pile. As they're mid-air Evans blocks it with a gentle shield charm. They both land on their feet unhurt but pouting childishly. Clambering over the bed I summon the parchment balls back into the bin. The four boys stalk about uncovering presents to add to the pile as Lily and I sit on the floor guarding the presents. Eventually a heap of twenty-five varying in size boxes and envelopes has been created. These were just for each other, those from their family were to be opened later in the afternoon. Lily and I would open the rest tomorrow. We spend a while passing them around and opening them, wrapping paper ending up being strewn across beds.

No surprising most of James presents were Quidditch related. A miniature snitch made from a marble and craft paper enchanted to buzz round a jar. The latest copy of Quidditch Weekly along with a years' subscription. A new mud brown Puddlemere United jersey. The colour was rather disgusting. James' father Fleamont had supported the Dorset team apparently. A new double triangle flag thing in which I was corrected into calling it a pennant, once again in the awful mud brown. A silver and gold snitch pin with the word seeker underneath.

Remus got quite a few grandaddy jumpers in greys, blues and beiges, a broad selection of books from various eras and bars of the beloved purple chocolate and a very large tin of the same brand mini chocolates in which he shared. I knew Lyall had sent him a gift voucher for Honeydukes as I'd overheard Minnie and Albus discussing it. They weren't too pleased with his lack of care and effort towards his son.

A large portion of Pete's presents were from the muggle world, primarily stuff with Marvel super heroes on. Thor, Iron Man and Captain America were featured heavily, punctuated by the Hulk, Black Widow and Spiderman. His nightwear of choice currently had shields decorating it. I knew very little of it all but he got rather animated once questioned, happily attempting to explain it to the two pure bloods.

Sirius had gotten new charcoals and Faber-Castell oil pastels as well as high quality sketch pads from the muggle world courtesy of Lily, Remus and Pete. James had even managed to get him some fancy muggle coffee grounds; Siri always drank it black and unsweetened which I couldn't grasp the appeal of. Part of my present would have to wait until outside of school. The other was a favour brought in from Axel, entitling Siri to another ink when he wanted it, or to have the bike serviced at his brother Bas' garage in the home counties when he was down that way.

Lils got another classic book from Remus along with a cat bookmark which had been enchanted to meow at the start of a new chapter. They'd discuss it for hours blocking out anyone who dared to interrupt. From James, a box of her favourite sweets from Honeydukes; Droobles gum in which she would chew and pop to irritate people and the Honeydukes Best Chocolate which melted in your mouth plus her favourite vanilla perfume. Pete had gotten her a multicoloured stripy scarf which had the ends connected and matching fingerless gloves. Siri had wrapped the latest version of vinyl record of some obscure band that they both liked. Her present from me was a simple gift card to an hour's spa treatment. A witch Iris knew done them and she'd been recommended by several people. It would be a chance to have time to herself and properly relax.

From Pete, I received new music compilations for the piano; some of the latest chart stuff which was nice. James had given me a voucher for Honeydukes along with a single bar of coconut ice. From Remus, there was a leather-bound book on Gaelic and Celtic mythology. The smell of the old book was rather wonderful, the ancient black leather worn to grey in places. Lily had somehow been in touch with Iris and gotten copies of family recipes, all neatly handwritten out in her rounded script in a muggle notebook. Sirius' present for me was a rather lovely pair of knee high black socks; the tops of which looked like a panda. They were cute and completely unexpectedly muggle. Also wrapped was a new sheer black blouse, small silver studs decorating the peter pan collar. Id either have to wear a vest top under it or put it over his present which he would get at a later date. Or hide the sheerness under a jumper. Right now, I was leaning to covering it.

Lunch was macaroni cheese which strung out when you went to eat it. This was due to having proper Christmas lunch the next day, although the four boys wouldn't be here for it. The six of us sat on the end of the table; James and Sirius on one side. Myself on the end, with Remus, Lily and Pete to my left. At the other end of the table sat the Dumbledore and the other professors who had stayed including Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. In between us were students of our year; Sybil Trelawney, Cristy Smith, Hestia Jones, a very angry looking Billy Wilkes with slimy Sev beside him and Elizabeth Travers.

The following day the boys snuck out with old Minnie under the Whomping Willow. Lily was tucked up in bed as I watched them from a window. A very shitty Christmas day for all. Around eleven am the redhead awakens, Mimmy appears from the kitchen with a milky coffee for her and a milky tea for me. Today she has a red Santa hat on with a bell in its bauble which jingles as she moves. She hugs us both, pressing a single galleon into our hands and wishing us a merry Christmas. She was so sweet. I'd written her and all the other elves a card, wishing them all a lovely day and hoping that they would share some of the meal too.

At lunch, we sit closer to the professors, Pomona patting our arms in reassurance. The dark Snakes, sneering our way commenting why the four boys were absent. Sybil gives us a small smile as we push sprouts around our plates. It was too quiet without them being here. It wasn't the same.

Back in the Gryffindor common room we open the few presents we had between us. Iris had sent me a soft charcoal grey cashmere sweater, it would go lovely with the sheer blouse. Flora had sent a new notebook, black with daisies and a matching pen. The dorm girls had all clubbed together to buy me white docs which were lovely. Petunia had sent Lily some awful vase about a foot high and the size of a digestive biscuit wide. The geometric pattern busy and headache inducing. There was also an unmarked present for her, in this was a cosy red tartan scarf. Marlene, Alice and Mary had gotten Lily new sets of pyjamas; red and white polka dot, black and white polka dot and navy nightie with light blue lace trim and straps.

We spend the afternoon practicing various charms and playing wizards chess which she beat me multiple times at. I also take her down to the Puff common room and show her the basics of piano playing, which she fell out with, the red hair shining through. Heading into the muggle studies classroom after a light tea, I pass her a guitar. Taking my own from the cupboard by the door I show her the basics. She picks it up easier than the piano.

By the time the boys find us were strumming away in the Lions' den once more. As she plays the basic tune I add the more complicated notes. Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail look knackered. They always did when on patrol. The shrieking shack wasn't exactly the most habitable of places. After showering they join us, commenting that Moony was asleep. Siri shifts me off the chair, pulling me back upon his lap as James slumps beside Lily. Pete takes a beanbag between the two. I watch as James corrects Lily with the notes she makes mistakes on. Placing her fingers where they were meant to be. Potter plays the guitar, I never knew.

The following morning Remus is resting in the Hospital Wing. In visiting him we find him propped up reading, new red lines here and there. James had snuck in chocolate which cheered him up a little though he was still irritable and tired. By tea time he joined us for the meal, Dumbledore tipping a chalice his way when he sits. Retiring to bed early he takes a few days to truly recover.

New Year festivities happen indoors. The thick snow outside making it rather difficult to be out. In a clockwise order, the candles within the sconces illuminate in a procession. The professors produce a multicoloured firework display from their wands, illuminating the ceiling of the Great Hall. The Great Hearth a bonfire warming the large room. A little traditional music, classics for Hogmanay with pipes and drums, similar to those I play in the Puff common room. The flow of butterbeer and Firewhisky, fruity black bun and crumbly shortbread upon platters. The professors are dancing. Minnie tries to show us how to highland dance, stepping this way and that and twirling about. Her skirts swish around her legs. It was a rather lovely change from the usually strict and proper deputy headmistress.

A few days later the school is soon filled with noise once more. The peace and quiet was shattered. The professors were back to being teachers rather than the relaxed humans we had seen. Even the ghosts had gone back to popping up and scaring the crap out of people. Peeves, who had spent the holidays bathing in the boys' toilets on the ground floor, was back with full force. Within an hour of everyone arriving back he had already locked several students in a broom cupboard, pelted first year Slytherin with stale bread and been caught writing rude words on the charms blackboard.

Nothing ever changed.


	16. February 1978

FEBRUARY 1978

As weeks skip by w'ere reminded daily that our NEWTs are just months away. Focus. Hard work. Dedication. Practice exams. Double homework. Feet of parchment each night. My social life existed as far as the common room walls or the library. I passed my Lion friends in the corridor, sharing glum looks. I looked forward to receiving their enchanted paper airplanes each evening and responding in a similar manner then occasionally breaking it with a random subject. Usually it was case of being in the same boat. The quicker Easter appeared the better. It was our turn to plan the party.

My birthday passed in a blur. A small gathering of cards and presents at breakfast. In the muggle world, this birthday would be a big deal. The big one eight. A massive party would have been planned along with a hangover after a pub crawl. I'd rather not. A shower of pink heart shaped confetti along with it all courtesy of the overly commercialised gimmick.

It was just days later that I'm called into Dumbledore's office. Sherbet saucers was todays password. I find my mother and Flora in the room. Arms support sobbing bodies. Tears prick my eyes at the sight. My father had gone to the Afterworld. Adair was in a better place. It still never made me feel any better. My chest tightens. My head throbs. My daddy had died. My mother was a widow. The last time I saw him, back in the summer, he was pale and withdrawn. It was hard not to dwell on that. Flora appeared so fragile, worse than what I had expected. Her ragged clothes hung loose on her frame. It's as though she'd reverted back to that summer a few years ago when we had that awkward drive home from London.

A week later, down in the Borders, we bury my father. As it were special circumstances I'd been granted permission to leave school along with Siri. The house was empty without Adair. It was an echo of the home that I had grown up in. The entire village came to a standstill as we followed the hearse around the square, resting at the church. Sombre mourning filled the tall room as tartan was draped over the coffin. The green and pink check looking odd with such a dark oppressive affair. Various people from the magical realm were also present. The Minister of Magic, Dumbledore, various other faces who I recognised but couldn't put names to. Through it all Sirius sat between Iris and I. His hand clasped in my own. His proud chin set firmly. Out in the graveyard the birds sang and the sun shone. How dare it be so lovely on such a dark day?

I avoid the wake in the village hall; I never understood why it was called a wake when someone had died. After checking on my mother and Flora, Sirius and I head for the house. Taking a slow stroll down the lane, hand in hand, black with black, stompy boots with stompy boots. Tiny green buds are just starting to appear on thin bare branches. The meadow a carpet of green and beige, not ready to bloom. Skirting the outside, we follow the track down to the narrow stream. The clear meandering water trickles over smooth pebbles picking up bits of grass from the shallow muddy banks. In one of the shallow pools opposite hummingbirds' hover eating small spiders from their fine webs. The place brought a peacefulness as memories appear. Sitting against a tree trunk, my knees up to my chin, grief overwhelms me. I finally give into it. Siri sits beside me, his arm around my shoulder, holding me, pressing a gentle kiss to my head.

As a child, we'd come down to play. Flora preferred looking on from the house than being in the outdoors seeing it for herself. I was always in awe of the nature around me. The different textures and colours that scatter the landscape. The rainbow hues upon the tiny stickle fish that lurked in the shallows. The draping leaves that fell in the autumn turning from green to red to brown. The multihued grasses that flattened under the bellies and hooves of animals that drank from the stream. The various birds that perched and sang in the trees. Each one individual and as interesting as the next. Adair would encourage me to find them in various books he would bring along with us, to learn and gain knowledge and understanding of the natural world. He was the teacher, I the student, both as willing as the other. I'd paddled in the stream, wellies upon my feet in cooler days. Bare in the warm. The algae slimy underfoot. The grasses brushing my bare legs. The trees were my climbing frame, the rough bark giving grip as I scaled them. Hanging from the branches and falling to my feet. Ropes thrown over chunkier branches to become swings, dropping into the cool shallow pools. Scratched skin. Grazed knees. Bumped heads. Adair would heal them within minutes with a light tap of his wand. Encouraged to grow. Safely with him by my side. My best friend.

And now he was gone.

After a while reminiscing we head into the house. Trailing through the meadow into the back garden. I find the key under the plant pot, letting us through the peeling pale green door into the kitchen. Upon the dining table was a pitcher of lemonade, I skirt my fathers' chair at the head of the table, fingers trailing the wooden back. Sitting in my usual seat with my fathers' empty seat to my left. It felt strange not having him there; knowing he would never sit there again. Standing behind me Siri rests his chin upon my head, hands squeezing my shoulders. The front door clicks open not long after. Iris and Flora were home.

Flora sinks into her chair opposite. My mother, unusually, sits beside me to the right, taking my hand in her own. Once again, unusually, decked out in top to toe black. Iris was in mourning. Her softly rounded face was tear stained and blotchy. Her hand shook in mine, the blue veins visible through the soft skin upon the back of it. Her usually bouncy hair was scraped back into a ponytail. She looked older, as if my fathers' passing had taken a part of her own soul. I suppose, as soul mates, maybe it did.

Back in school a few days later, my life went on. Classes pass by. Each day a grey blur. The colour had gone.

By the time mid-March had come around the dorm girls; Harriet, Cynthia and the twins had all staged a minor intervention to help. Getting me to talk to them about Adair, as well as talking to a Healer from St Mungo's for the afternoon who prescribed a perky potion, similar to that of anti-depressants in the muggle world. A two-week dosage, morning and night, of this frothy bubble gum coloured liquid apparently would work wonders.

It was also around this time that they got me to help in the planning of our dance. Sending out a simple invitation; white card with pastel stripes along the top and silver writing.

To (Insert name here)

You're invited to our Spring Fling.

The Main Lawn.

Saturday April 29th.

4pm.

Please dress in pastels or summery attire.

Thanks, Puffs x

Manually we deliver these to the various common rooms; down in the dungeon for the Slytherins, and up both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers in which there were far too many stairs. Our only issue were the passwords. In not knowing them we simply conjure a box and place them outside each common room doors with a note to be distributed to the seventh-year students.

And now we plan and wait.

The last weekend in April soon arrives. The sky is blue with a few clouds in the air with a cooling chill as the myself and Harriet along with Henrietta Abbott and Misty make our way to the lawn. Donovan along with Thomas Weasley, Van Dyke who never goes by Benjamin and Duncan Urquart have already started pitching large expandable marquees. They had already brought out the long trestle tables from a small storage room inside the castle.

One of these would be used for food. An afternoon picnic type thing had been planned; sandwiches, crisps and cakes and biscuits. Platters and bowls of sweet junk food; tiny meringues sent by Iris in the dozens, freshly made donuts, candyfloss and popcorn machines. Also in this was an array of muggle sweets; love hearts, flying saucers, bitter cola cubes, sherbet tubes and various shapes of marshmallow and also a BBQ a short distance outside. Another smaller tent would have cold refreshments inside; bottles of pop, a milkshake bar and fresh lemonade. There would also be an ice cream van about selling Fortescue's ice cream.

All the food would be added later on after lunch with the help of the house elves. Poor Mimmy had been spending time at the house comforting my mother since my fathers' death. It was through her that Iris had input for today. A more positive sign.

From the same storage room came boxes of decorations that we had all been making. Long chains of decorative craft paper. Triangular bunting and tassel garlands. Paper spirals and circles of accordion pleats resembling pastel flowers. Long draping tissue paper streamers covering the doorways which flutter in the breeze.

A couple more marquees had a dozen white picnic tables in, decorated with tins and jars of wildflowers and small paper pinwheels. These matched the larger ones scattered across the lawn to make edges. From tree branches hung small jars of daisies and painted tin cans with designs drilled into them. Tiny tea lights would be lit as dusk fell.

Also across the space were various muggle games, a large bouncy castle in mint and peach, multicoloured space hoppers and sparkly hula hoops. Various upscaled games; jenga, dominoes and a painted twister upon the grass. Various stalls break up the open space; a coconut shy, a tin can alley and a bean bag toss into various sized buckets. And a few giant vats of never ending bubbles.

Pure childish fun and games. An excuse to feel like children again. Although maybe some of the purer bloods wouldn't have had the chance to do this sort of thing growing up.

Dumbledore clapped with glee when he saw what we had constructed and planned upon a large roll of parchment. He adds a suggestion of draping fabric across some tree branches or frames which he set Hagrid into making. Under these we were to scatter cushions and blankets, like dens.

After having a quick breakfast, toast and tea to go, we continue setting up. Professors had cast an invisibility charm around it all so that the rest of the school would see their usual view. Building Dumbledore's tents, stringing up the decorations and organising flowers with the help of a few staff members who curiously came to see. It was actually more fun to do this as muggles would, adjusting and placing by eye rather than by magic.

After lunch, we request our year to stay behind. With each house receiving an admit one ticket for the fayre. The Lions get a bubble gum pink, a few students moan at the colour. Serpents get a mint green. Ravens a sky blue and we had buttercup yellow. These would be swapped at the entrance when they were allowed in.

Getting quickly changed into a white t-shirt, a mustard yellow pinafore and my lovely white docs upon my feet with bare legs. I pull my hair loosely off my face. Heading to the lawn we add finishing touches. A tunnel of giant sickly sweet coloured balloon arches welcomes people in. Beside the final one there's two tables being set up either side where the tickets would be swapped for a palm sized dream catcher.

Time soon catches up on us as the last-minute details get adjusted. The entire front lawn skirting the lake was a mass of pinks, blues, greens and yellows with a few other light shades thrown in. Flowers swayed in the breeze. Floral bunting and geometric shaped garlands flapped. Sugary smells drifted from the giant food tent, reminiscent of muggle fairgrounds. The BBQ sizzled, meaty smells mixing with sweet. House elves dart across the lawn ensuring things were running smoothly. My mother and Mimmy were sat at the entrance tables. Fellow badgers compassionate towards them, assuring it was okay for them to be here.

At precisely four pm Dumbledore dances down the steps in a lovely misty blue robe. He's followed by a mass of spring coloured students who'd embraced the pastel theme, pairing it with their usual styles. I noted a lot of the guys were in blues and greens. Forming two lines they grudgingly surrender their wands and had over the ticket. With the greener sides of things putting up an argument with a patent Iris and Mimmy until Dumbledore steps in, cajoling them until they appease the old man. A lot of them reacted indifferent to the dream catchers. The small circles would capture positive memories from the afternoon.

Heading over to Iris I find Sirius by her side. He's bypassed the sweet pastel colour and instead had a pale grey tee on. At least it was still light coloured. They both smile as I approach, Siri stretching out a hand and twirling me before pulling me to his side. Pressing a kiss to my temple he questions the dream catcher. Taking a few steps away I explain, a simple memory charm had been placed upon it.

As the final students trickle under the archway the others have already began playing and trying out some of the fun and food. Happy sounds drift across the open area. Lily and James are easy to spot, competitive on the space hoppers. James, for someone used to balancing upon a broom was struggling with the rubber ball. Both Pete and Remus were seemingly finding this hilarious. Various Professors were strolling about with cameras capturing the scene. Some had cartons of popcorn, others a stick of candyfloss or a cupcake or a cone. At this moment, we were happy and carefree.

By dusk my face hurt from laughing and smiling and I had a stitch. Junk food coursed through my veins. As the sun began to fade the candles in the tin cans and jam jars flicker to life. Van Dyke and Duncan had out glow sticks along with Alfie Richardson. Stalls are pushed back or collapsed to make room for a band and dancing. Relaxing in one of Hagrid's' tents we watch as people fill the cleared space. In our own little bubble, life stands still. Lily's curled into James side, as I am with Siri, my legs overlapping his. Harriet and Pete are strolling hand in hand eating candyfloss. Remus was off to the side of our cover, twiddling the dream catcher in his fingers. I don't think he'd worked out the purpose of it yet apart from it being aesthetically pretty.

Removing my own mint green one from my wrist, I hold the centre glass bead between my thumb and forefinger "Memorias Manere". My head is filled with visions from today. Showing Siri how to hula hoop. Popping bubbles in the breeze. Siri with pink icing on his face. Landing in a heap in twister along with Lily and James, our limbs intertwined. Happy times. It plays like a short film, moving seamlessly from one to the next. Saying "Memorias." it stops. The four others soon copy, smiles evident on their faces as they zone out. It wasn't long before my fellow Puffs had shown others how they worked. It would spread like wildfire.

Quarter of an hour later we're all being dragged to the dance floor by the dorm girls. Glow sticks are being placed on the guys' wrists and around mine and Evans' heads. I'm sure from a distance the neon combined with the twinkly lights would look cool.

By ten pm we're instructed to be heading back into the castle. Our wands would be waiting for us on our beds. The tidying up could be done tomorrow.

Today we were young and carefree.


	17. June 1978

June 1978

The Spring Fling seemed like a lifetime ago by the time NEWTs came around. A lot of frustrated and stressful tears were being shed. Some of our year resorted to pulling all-nighters in the library, or had been admitted into the hospital wing. It was twice, if not triple, worse than OWLs. They were a walk in the park compared to these. When they were finally over was an understatement. A certain foursome had set fire to the remaining parchment left about, turning them into fireworks within the Great Hall. Instead of going back to the common rooms we expand onto the front lawn, laughing and cheering. Relief that it was all over. And yet now that we were being released into the wider wizarding world, things seemed a lot more uncertain. Our safety blanket was soon being taken from us.

The Sunday after our final exam, the Quidditch stands are packed to the rafters for Gryffindor v Slytherin. We had beaten Ravenclaw two weeks earlier. Proud participating Puffs. The winning team would take the House Cup. I never had been properly into the sport but did enjoy watching as the teams swooped and dived. Every time one team scored, the other did not long after. Things on the greener side were taking to become dangerous, hitting the bludger at close range or 'defending' or as we call it, shoving, those in red. After three hours, it was getting a touch dire.

From high up above the stands James swoops towards the ground. The crowd gasps and he just misses, swooping in a tight loop. Whispers echo that the golden stitch had been seen. This would thankfully end the game. As James levels, he reveals a walnut sized winged ball from his hand. Gryffindor had won the match. Gryffindor had won the House Cup.

By the time we get pitch side, a streak of red hair is flying towards the messy haired Lion captain. Catching her easily he twirls her round before kissing her. Almost everyone stops, smiling, clapping and cheering at the two lovers. Beauty and the beast. The Snakes soon slither away to the changing rooms. A particular sour looking one hexing anyone or anything in his way. Petty and immature. It takes a while for us to weave through the mass of bodies on the pitch. Eventually the love birds notice us. Siri jumps upon James' back and Remus hugs Lily. Pete's chatting animatedly to Harriet who simply smiles and nods at the right places, she got Quidditch just as much as I did. Marlene and Mary MacDonald are also with us along with Alice. The three lionesses would get a play by play from Lily over the next few days. The Head Boy and Head Girl had their moment.

The very last day in June, white fluffy clouds drifts aimlessly across the still blue sky. There was a silent pressure within the atmosphere. The calm before the storm. Our breakfast was a choice. A seventh year special. Everything about today was monumental. I order a couple of large crepes with Nutella, bananas with chopped nuts and a mug of proper builders' tea. Next to me Harriet orders a bowl of plump fresh strawberries drizzled with thick and sweet cream with a cold glass of berry juice, the condensation running down the side of the glass. For Cynthia, a portion of caviar on sliced smoked salmon and a crisp black coffee. An acquired taste. Misty and Amber share a giant platter of fruit. Every colour of the rainbow circles round a round pot of natural yogurt for dunking and large glasses of tropical juice to match.

A lazy morning of packing up the muggle way, reminiscing over memories. Side splitting laughter and happy tears in group hugs. The five of us had grown up together. Four different backgrounds getting magically placed in this crazy castle. Thrown together as a mismatch of characters yet all getting on with it. Badgers to the end. After everything's packed into various trunks and suitcases for the final time we sit on the end of each bed facing each other in a circle. They yellow drapes with silver stitching and black tie-backs. The soft grey duvet with yellow patchwork blankets folded on each end. The place we had called home since we were eleven. The circular room with round windows overlooking rippling grass and dandelions. The deep windowsill, currently housing a lovely pink flowering cactus. The bare pin board blank from the mess of usual notes and reminders, all contained into a box for the next generation to find under Cynthia's bed. Our memories the new layer upon many of previous Badger girls. Our beloved Professor Sprout in her teenage years, Arithmancer Bridget Wenlock, both of whom resided in this very room.

Lunch was Dumbledore's favourite, well that of this week. Pasta tubes with Bolognese or meatballs in a sweet tomato sauce. Comfort food in a way. Our last ever meal in the Great Hall. Large coloured banners decorate the walls; one for each house. Each head of house giving a rather emotional speech as we awaited pudding. The choice of jelly and ice cream or jam roly-poly and custard.

At half past one we were ushered to get ready into our dress robes. Sometimes these were formal cloaks, other times these were more on the muggle side. Today it was our choice of what we chose to wear. The lovely black flutter sleeved dress from Christmas '75 came with a deep V back and a fit to little flare at the bottom stopping around mid-thigh. Today was that occasion that was worth just the something little more it had. Stepping into the platform courts that had been put with the dresses I bought that day, and many times since. The wider boat neckline needed something.

Rooting in my jewellery box sat upon my trunk I find the pendant that dad gave to me for my eighteenth, just days before he died. The slightly heavier rib length chain had a silver tree upon it. The yellow diamonds, just like those in the Puff hour glass in the Great Hall, were set into leaves in the two-and-a-half-inch charm. It reminded me of those days down by the stream in autumn as a child with him. The tree was also of significance; a symbol of growth. The silver similar to that of my wand and favourite tree. A silver birch. It all seemed rather appropriate and sentimental right now. As I take my reflection in the mirror, bittersweet tears prick my eyes. I have to blink a few times to stop them falling. I first stood here aged eleven, just seven years ago. Time has passed. I've grown taller, filled out more, become more self-assured. Experienced and learnt so much. And yet, I still have time to grow, to learn, to adapt. Just now instead of being in the safety of Hogwarts it was in the big, wide, slightly gloomy and uncertain world. At least I wasn't going it alone. I had my four dorm mates; the girls who had been there since day one. I had three lionesses; Lily, Marlene and the soon to be Mrs Longbottom. Alice and Frank had gotten engaged over Easter. I also had the four Marauders. We were facing the world together.

Just half an hour later we gather in the Great Hall. McGonagall organises us into alphabetical order just like we had been at the Sorting Hat Ceremony. Many friends and foes in a year group of nearly fifty. Some of us would go on in the Wizarding World. Others would thrive in the muggle. Some would dance somewhere across both sides of the lines. People would go on and do wonderful and amazing things and have very different lives. Light. Dark. Or that fuzzy grey area. But at this moment in time we were to become Hogwarts Alumni of 1978.

Outside on the lawn our families await in rows of white wooden chairs with red, blue, green and yellow streamers on the backs. These were decorated by the Ravens, who chose graduation to decorate. We wouldn't be having a party though like Halloween, Christmas and Spring.

For those that couldn't or wouldn't come, then there would still be plenty of support. Although any siblings within school were not allowed out of class to witness it. The exception of this, was Reg who had permission off Dumbledore to be there for Siri. I'd hate to know the consequences of this. Mum would be there, possibly Flora too. Mr Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, supporting both their son and their adopted one. Mr Lyall Lupin of Non-Human Spirituous Apparitions fame and his sweet wife Hope. Pete's mother was currently in St Mungo's with Scrofungulus, like she had been at Christmas. Lily's parents had died back in fifth year and her relationship with her sister's new boyfriend wasn't exactly pleasant. The Becker's and the Lovine's would be there although the Fitzroy's refused to grace the wizarding world. Various other familiar and less familiar faces would be chatting between each other; most of whose footsteps we would be following.

At half past two on the dot we follow Minnie outside. Henrietta Abbott following her. We assemble to the left of the platform in a line, out of view by a white curtain. Dumbledore who is stood in front of four large house banners is waffling about facing the future and its trials. The audience claps politely at the white bearded elder of the wizengamot.

As Henrietta is announced there's more polite clapping as my fellow Puff nervously enters stage left. She's followed by Charles Avery, a Dark Arts lover. Harriet, the studious Miss Berrycloth and Badger Robin Birdwhistle. Sirius strides across the stage, Regulus makes a lot of noise at this, amusing some of the guests. A blue Miss Butler, evil Amycus Carrow, and spineless female Crouch who would sell your soul to Satan just like her male cousin in the year below. Miss Evans as Head girl giving up her badge, Alice as a Fawley is next followed by Cynth who in used to presentations, appears to float across to Dumbledore.

As she vanishes at far end I nip up the three steps finding myself on the other side of the curtain. Taking ten steps to shake Dumbledore's hand, receiving a scroll of paper with the graduation date on and a yellow square hat, another ten off. Three down and I'm behind the other curtain as a lion Miss Johnston is announced followed by Hestia Jones and the twins and Remus. Mary, Marlene, Donovan, and Marcus Mulciber. The lassie Nott, the Ravens Messer's Ollivander and Oscar and snakey Stasia Parkinson.

Pete who scurries across the stage as quick as possible, James who gets a special mention as Head boy and House Cup winner, fellow lion Fabian Prewett. My fellow Badger Alfie, Slytherin's Evan Rosier, Rowle and Selwyn. The red Shacklebolt. Miss Kalindi Shafiq and Crissy Smith, both Ravens. Slimy Sev doesn't have anyone in the crowd. Misters Tanner and Taylor, both Ravenclaws. Elizabeth Travers whose older brother graduated last year and is just as twisted. Spacey Sybil Trelawney. Duncan and the lovely Emmeline Vance. Van Dyke and Thomas who prances across the stage with minor hilarity. Billy Wilkes is sandwiched between the two Ravens that are Fintan Whitelaw and Kasper Zimmerman.

We crowd back on the stage behind Dumbledore with house coloured caps on. All forty-eight of us officially graduate with paper work. Flinging out hats skywards we cheer and whistle as they explode into fireworks courtesy of the Ravens bewitching them beforehand. Our NEWT results would appear during the summer by post.

Meeting Iris in the half hour allocated for photos and congratulations, it's over too soon. We retrace those very first steps. The wide damp stairs down to the circular harbour. Our limbs folded into the boats through the ivy veil which glides shut behind us. The black lake looks deeper and murkier than ever. Footfalls echo as we traipse down the dusty path to Hogsmeade. Madam Rosemerta and Aberforth Dumbledore solemn and waving on the platform.

The red steam train, students crowding into the familiar carriages, it hits hard. It was our last journey. I pause for a moment on the platform, breathing in the smoke. My chest tightens, swallowing the lump in my throat I slip into the vestibule. The scarlet train was as part of Hogwarts as the castle, the lake and its Professors.

London arrives before we're ready. Kings Cross is busy even at silly o'clock at night. Muggles are oblivious to our emotional state. This was the end of the old and the start of the new. This was the unknown.


	18. Mid Summer 1980

MID-SUMMER 1980

The two years since we graduated had gone fast. My initial month trial as an Auror in Training had been harder than I had expected. The desk job; manually tracking Dark Magic was fine, as was the Poison and Antidotes and Magical combat side of things though I didn't agree with using the Unforgivable Curses. And the mental silent magic had been found out within the second week. Mr Crouch Senior had taken too much of an interest in it for my liking. It made me feel uncomfortable. The Concealment and Disguise element and Stealth and Tracking were harder. In all honesty, it wasn't for me. Better to have realised that sooner than later, which Moody understood, apparently it wasn't an uncommon thing.

I had transferred into the Department of Magical Education. It was still under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. In this we reviewed the curriculum, created overviews of each subject and many amendments as well as allocating the text books and overseeing exams. I was often in communication with Hogwarts as well as the stores in Hogmeade and Diagon Alley that stocked school supplies.

I had been staying with Flora in her basic muggle flat a few stops on the tube from Whitehall. James and Lily had moved into a cottage in Godric's Hollow after becoming engaged just weeks after graduating. Remus had moved in with Sirius in his flat on the other side of the city. Sebastian Emory, Axel's brother, had taken Siri on in his garage, refining his skills on the bike after he used my Christmas present. Remus was helping James' father with his books, publicizing Mr Potter's Sleakeazy Hair Potion with ease. Pete was looking after his sick mother in the Yorkshire Dales.

Last summer Lily had used her Christmas present, her pampering treatment, the day before she married James. The wedding was a quiet affair in Saint Jerome's Church. Siri had been best man, looking dapper in his suit with a charcoal grey tie, as did James with a Gryffindor red tie. Lily was in a lovely simple long white summer dress with off the shoulder straps. Her hair was loose, a gold band around her hair and golden sandals upon her feet. She looked beautiful and not too fancy. At her request, I had worn the grey backless dress. If finally had a positive meaning. My hair had been piled into a rough bun and simple flat silver sandals upon my feet. Pete had been brought Harriet, dressed in his suit with his tie matching her pale pink tea dress. Remus was in a white shirt with navy braces holding his trousers up and a lovely navy tie. Marlene was in a long navy dress to co-inside with Remus. Maybe they had a thing going on? Lily's sister hadn't been present, though James' parents were. His mother's face becoming red as her only child commits forever to his girlfriend. Both Fleamont and Euphemia had died a week or so later from dragon pox. James, understandably had found this hard, he and Lily coming back from their two-week honeymoon in the Lake District earlier than planned. Sirius had also found this hard; the Potters were the loving, caring parents that he never had.

Every few weeks we'd meet in warded locations. Dumbledore had created an organisation back in '70. The Order of the Phoenix. The four Marauders, Lily, Alice and I plus Frank and a few others who had also graduated with us; Fabian Prewett and Emmeline Vance. Fabian's brother in law Arthur Weasley, a relative of Thomas, and Old Minnie. Lots of familiar faces. Those who had connections with the ministry; myself and Fabian who had become a Junior Auror and Amber had wound up in the Department of Games and Sports would relay any lines we thought would help.

It was towards the end of last year that both Lily and Alice; now a Longbottom and Arthur's missus and Fabian's sister, Molly had all announced pregnancies. Lily and Alice were due in around six months' time while Molly had a little while until Spring. The world was in a hurry. The destruction on muggle-born wizards and places in the muggle world has increased. Azkaban, the wizard prison, had increased the numbers of Dementors about. These awful creatures were soul sucking dark ghoul type things negatively charge the atmosphere, draining it of anything positive, basking in decay and despair. Soulless and evil and shells of amortal beings. No wonder prisoners were driven insane. Those in the snakey house in school had followed their families over to the Dark Side. Reg had followed them just two years after graduating, taking the mark. He had paid the ultimate price last year. He had joined the Dark Lord at sixteen, murdered at his Lord's orders. Maybe he wanted out after being in too far? We don't know.

Sirius took it badly. We'd spent the evening playing cards which resulted in me staying the night. The following afternoon his owl arrived; Titan, the same one that was a cute and fluffy baby delivering messages in the dorm before dances. Titan flies off once Sirius retrieves the letter. He goes really quiet and still. His shoulder level and chin defiant. Dropping the letter, he storms off. Punching the wall. Kicking the bin. Flipping the table. Light from his wand flashes as he hexes anything in sight. I mentally block him and throw up a shield charm just in case. Plates shatter from in the kitchen. The flat becomes a mess. Remus walks through the door looking worn. He's instantly alert and defensive, throwing up a different shield over the both of us as I expand mine over him. He looks between me and the swearing shouting person hidden in the kitchen. All I can do is shrug. Frozen to the spot. Summoning the letter, it infiltrates the double shield, well protected from the Bad Boy in the kitchen. As he reads it over my shoulder we both understand why Sirius reacted the way he did. The formal letter ending in Mr and Mrs Orion and Walburga Black instead of mum and dad.

Regulus had died. Sirius was broken. Upset. Angry. Outwardly showing this. The Black temper in full swing. Eventually he calms down. Shuffling through from the upturned kitchen, curling up on the sofa with his knees drawn to his chest. His usually perfect hair ruffled and tousled. His eyes red, puffy and damp. We relax the shields, sitting either side of him as he curls between his Moony and his Pixie getting large salty tear marks upon our woollen jumpers.

Back in January he'd visited his parents. It hadn't gone well. I suggested talking to other members of his family; Andromeda and her now seven-year-old daughter Dora. He'd make excuses, staying late at the Leaky Cauldron. Through work I had gotten to know Andromeda better. She was part of the OWL and NEWT exam board and would draft examination paper questions and mark them when Professors needed a second opinion. I loved visiting them, the beautiful Kent countryside reminiscent of Binderby. Sirius didn't need to know, he was too caught up in the bike and the boys to see family. Dora amused me greatly, her metamorphmagus capabilities growing stronger each time. When I visited last week, she replicated me though became herself when I finally showed her the mental summoning. She'd taken an interest in it with a barrage of questions. Such a funny little girl.

At the end of July both Alice and Lily had sons. I get the news at work as I'm marking test papers, they would be double checked magically later. Just two years ago I had taken them myself. Harry James Potter looked like his father but with his mother's eyes. I held him for the first time when he was just a week old in the little cottage in Godric's Hollow. The two tired parents plus Sirius, Remus and Pete who'd popped in for a cuppa. The small snuffling child in my arms slept soundly all afternoon. Our child would have been three. It was a bittersweet moment.

We catch up with Alice and Frank and little Neville at Harry's christening, the boys just six weeks old. Neville Octavian Longbottom was just a day older than Harry with blond hair and Alice's brown eyes. Quieter than the noisy Harry too as he slept through the ceremony. Molly and Arthur were also in attendance with their brood of boys. Ten-year-old William, eight-year-old Charlie and four-year-old Percy. The twins Fred and George were two and the bump due in March, predicted to be another red headed boy.

On my annual holiday, taken late, I visit Iris in Binderby. The village same as it always had been. My mother was fine, finding comfort in Mr Jones the parish gardener. Joseph and Iris had become companions, bonding over flower bulbs and home cooking. He'd been widowed a decade earlier, his wife Clara having a short-term relationship with a cancer of sorts. I was glad my mother wasn't alone.

Rather than going straight back to London I Floo via Godric's Hollow. In the month since I had seen them little Harry had grown. Now at three months he was stronger, grasping the tendrils around my face. Sitting on their sofa I bounce Harry lightly upon my knee as he giggles. A flash of green erupts from the fireplace. Sirius strolls into the room, a hand running through his hair. He still manages to make my heart skip a beat. Things were okay with us. A little distant now that we had separate jobs and catching up was hard. It had gone from being intense to slow drifting; we'd seen other people lightly, having drinks or whatever, but always came back to each other. In seeing his godson, he comes and plucks the dark-haired child from my lap before sitting beside me, pressing a kiss to my forehead with Harry between us. James and Lily appear in the doorway all dolled up. Tonight, Sirius and I were babysitting. After reassuring them that it would be okay, they head off to a restaurant.

After a messy bath, I wasn't sure who was more soaked, Sirius or Harry, we settle the baby down. I'm curled into Sirius' arms with Harry in my own sucking softly on a bottle. It wasn't too long that he fell asleep, the bottle hanging from his mouth. I watch from the doorway as Siri tucks him into his cot, fingers grazing his forehead lightly, entranced. The security of it all makes my heart clench. What could have been.

A year later the war against the Dark Lord comes too close for comfort. Marlene and her entire family had been wiped out just a few short months ago. I cried the night I found out. Both Fabian and his elder brother Gideon were sadly, now also dead putting up a fight again Dolohov and other Death Eaters. Families were being destroyed. Anyone that stood against him or fought his Death Eaters were wiped out without a backwards glance. It was horrendous. James, Lily and little Harry had gone into hiding. Alice, Frank and Neville had also done the same. Both families jumping from place to place attempting to go undetected. Sirius becoming their secret keeper as to their location. Their whereabouts being kept by the Fidelius Charm. It was hard not being able to see any of them.

My boyfriend, his best friend and his wife and toddler were all in grave danger. I hated it. Remus was spending even more time away. I hadn't seen him since Christmas. Those of his kind were siding on the Darker way of life. One of my best friends was toeing the line, if not now firmly on the other side. This upset me. But I suppose those with the affiliation wanted better rights than they currently did. To be accepted and not constantly frowned against.

I was watching the fireworks display from the flat window when the buzzer goes. Flora was out with muggle friends watching them in a park where a bonfire had been set up. A familiar voice at the end. Warily letting Remus in he looks a state. His clothes were ragged and falling off his now malnourished body. "Sylvie." I keep my wand trained on him. His voice breaks as he says my name. "James and Lily!" he breathes deeply a few times. "Sirius and Pete…" he isn't making any sense. Maybe he's delusional.

"Remus?" I lower my wand slowly. "Remus? What?"

"Dead." His fists ball. "The Dark Lord has killed Lily and James. Sirius told him. Pete too, only his finger left." His voice is barely a whisper, he swallows hard keeping his eyes trained on me. "Sirius is off to Azkaban without a trial. Killed muggles in the process."

"No! You're lying. He wouldn't do that. You know he wouldn't betray them." My voice increases in volume as I walk towards him. "Sirius wouldn't betray James and Lily. He wouldn't kill Pete." I stop opposite him, lowering my voice once again I continue. "Without trial. That isn't fair, surely someone would step in and testify for him." He just shakes his head, maybe he didn't believe that Sirius wouldn't do it. He was giving up on his best friend. Our friends were dead. Sirius was a good as. I swallow back tears. "They're gone?" He nods once. "When? How?"

"Halloween. Lily's sister is looking after Harry." We both pull a face at this. "Sirius blabbed. Pete had confronted him, a brave thing. Something snapped I suppose, Sirius blew him and twelve muggles to smithereens. Probably why he's going without a trial. James faced Him wandless. Lily sacrificed herself for Harry. Killing cursed her trying to protect the baby but killed himself instead." He closes his eyes, a grimace passing over his face.

Closing the gap, I hug him my head on his chest, his arms lightly round me. "They're all gone." Tears drip from my face. Remus is also crying, wet patches in my hair. Right now, I was all he had. Lyall had passed earlier in the year barely associating with his son. I had Flora and mum. Remus was an orphan. The true family he had, all but gone. My chocolate loving lycanthropic friends' world was upside down.

"Your mother says hello, by the way." We separate, he holds me at arm's length. "Reminds you to make sure Flora is eating properly too. And hopes that all is well." He strides over to the sofa, relaxing a little in the cushions.

"A mission from The Order I suppose?" he nods in response. "Tea?" again he nods.

Heading across into the kitchenette I boil the kettle, offering him a biscuit. After making the two cups I join him. My heart feels heavy. I push up my sleeve and run a finger over the pawprint tattoo. Remus looks at me curiously then realising what I had touched. He simply closes his eyes and nods. I didn't believe, couldn't believe, that he would go against James and Lily like that. Nor would he harm Pete. Mrs Pettigrew in her frail state, this might just be the end of her. Oh fudge, Harriet. She's lost her boyfriend too. She'd set up a hair salon up in Yorkshire beside Pete, apparently it had been doing well.

I would owl her but Flora had forbidden magic. Or I could telephone her? She would need company just as much as we did. Leaving Remus to nap, I telephone her, speaking quietly. She didn't sound great. Maybe even a little angry, though there wasn't any need to direct it my way. The Order soon came to visit, all cramming into Flora's small living room. It was smaller now and fractured in places. He still hadn't got back to me touching the pawprint. This unsettled me. As did Dumbledore's reaction to it. It's as if Harry was more important than our friends, his parents and extended family. I would rather have had them alive than Harry. Harsh, I know, but he was a baby. Lily, James, Pete and Siri were our family. And now they were gone. As were Alice and Frank, mentally at least. Tortured till they were loopy. Little Neville now with Augusta, Frank's mother.

Each month Remus and I would grab coffee somewhere. Each time he'd look shabbier than the time before, refusing my help. I visit Dora twice a month with Andromeda and her muggle born husband Ted going out for the evening. Each time Dora would look different yet still run at me screaming 'Miss Sylvie' before showing me something she had learnt. The dorm girls had rallied around Harriet and I, visiting whenever they could. Harriet and I had grown apart since leaving school. She resented Siri for killing Pete and took it out on our friendship. I understood why but it hurt none the less. I had Amber around and there for me, we'd grown close through work, starting and finishing the same time each day.

On the Easter following my twenty-second birthday; six months after our friends had been killed, Amber and I moved into a small flat in Diagon Alley South side above one of the many café's. This one in particular was owned by Misty; The Dreamcatcher. White metal chairs and tables dotted with jam jars with daisies spread across the open room. Pretty bunting across the walls. Comforting food served on pastel crockery. Behind the counter she sold the familiar palm sized enchanted dream catchers. I kept mine, using it to relive those halcyon days past. She lived about Flourish and Blotts with Alfie Richardson and their six-week-old twins Aubrey and Alfie Junior. Aubrey was a sweet and quiet little girl with a mass of dark curly hair. Alfie was fair and never truly settled, always grumbling and irritable.

Things quieten down after that. Every morning I'd touch the pawprint; I never got a response. Sometimes in my sleep I'd imagine it, the vibrations and heat flowing across my arm. I would instantly shift so I could touch it in response. Work was comfortingly repetitive. The same people there and work each day with the change in customers. It kept me grounded.

Days after settling, Flora gets in touch. She'd been huffy with me for moving but I was sick of the no magic rule. Just because she had given it up, I couldn't. She appears at our door with a white blouse and navy pencil skirt, looking upset. Her usually perfect hair was a little rumpled too. Headmistress Humphries had phoned her at work. Mum had passed away. Iris was supposed to meet her for preparations for a church coffee morning but hadn't showed. She'd gone around to find her in bed. At peace with the world. I wasn't as devastated by her death compared to my father's. Iris hadn't been right since Adair had died four years ago. From what I got in her monthly letters Joseph Jones had been company that she had needed. Mimmy had taken her death hard; I heard less from her now though she had stayed on at Hogwarts helping. Mimmy was under the ownership of the school rather than myself or Flora.

Her funeral just a week later was reminiscent of dads though this time I only had Flora. The space between us was widening further. My sister was becoming a stranger. Miss Humphries had consoled us both. Her scowling teenage daughter also present, unusually quiet too. After the funeral Flora had left; leaving me to deal with mums' will. Instead of going to the house Miss Humphries invited me to read it at her cottage next to the school. Sitting at the small table in her kitchen I read the document. There had been an amendment at the beginning. Everything of Adair John Grey II was left to Iris Margaret McDougall. Thereby in her death everything of my fathers was now left to Miss Flora Iris Grey and Miss Sylvie Ethel Grey. Long story short Flora was left their savings while I got the house and garden including the meadow and stream that marked the boundary.

I refused to visit the house after spending an afternoon clearing the perishable food from the kitchen. Locking the front door behind me I swore I'd visit in time to clean it properly. Some day.


	19. Early 1990s

EARLY 1990'S

I was in the audience when our Dora graduated from Hogwarts in June 1991. She was to become an Auror in Training under the watchful Mad-Eye Moody. I was proud. I'd watched her grow into her abilities although she was still incredibly clumsy. Our little Harry and Molly and Arthur's son would be starting in September. Their lovely daughter Ginny and eldest Bill was beside us watching young Charlie graduate. From what Molly was saying he chose Dragons in Romania instead of Quidditch in England. Old Minnie and I had been chatting, catching up. A slimy Slytherin had been Potions Master for the past decade.

Aubrey and Alfie; Misty's twins, were now nine and spent their time between The Dreamcatcher with their mother, aunt and I, and their father in Flourish and Blotts. As Misty fussed more with the twins trying to teach them muggle school things, Amber and I had control of the café. Together we were content in getting along. Our friendship strong. We rarely spoke to Cynthia now, she'd married some earl or lord or wherever.

Remus and I's coffee meetings continued, lately in tea shops for tea and lunch. The short term under ability jobs were taking its toll. It was frustrating to watch my friend barely get by. Every time I would offer him a job in the café. Every time he would politely decline it. It was familiar.

We met in a tea room just off York Minster, the summer of what would be Harry becoming a teen. How time had flown. The DADA job at Hogwarts, cursed apparently, had been opened due to an incompetent Gilderoy Lockhart who was now safely joining Alice and Frank in St Mungo's. Why Dumbledore had offered it to him in the first place was beyond anyone's knowledge. Remus was deliberating taking the job, a limitless supply of wolfsbane as part of the deal.

Within a week of the new term starting the wizarding world was in a panic. Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. Deemed as a madman we were put on high alert. Posters with his face and prison number pinned to posts and walls. His now aged face and over grown hair making him look feral. Twelve years in the prison had taken its toll upon my once youthful and aristocratic love. I had never moved on from him.

I had been warned by Remus, Minnie and Dumbledore not to approach him. Who knows what the extent of the constant solitary confinement had left his mind at. He was deemed as being dangerous. I didn't want to believe it. Nor did I believe that he would betray James and Lily, though I learnt years ago to keep that to myself. Remus, via owl, kept me updated. Every few days I'd feel a gentle heat and vibration to my left wrist. I'd not lost him completely. My heart had leapt the first time that it had happened.

Days before Halloween Remus owls that Sirius, as Pads or a Grim, had been spotted in Hogsmeade and around the edges of the Forbidden Forest alongside Miss Grangers' kneazle Crookshanks who had an uncanny resemblance to Lily's cat Marmalade oh so long ago. He was getting closer to Harry and consequently Ron's familiar rat dubbed Scabbers. Remus and I had noted Scabbers had one less toe akin to a certain finger that was left behind when Sirius had blasted him all those years ago. The sneaky rat.

A week later news had filtered that Sirius had broken into the castle on Halloween. The anniversary of James and Lily's death. Of the day Harry lived. In frustration in not finding Scabbers in Ronald's bed, he'd lashed out at The Fat Lady's Portrait. Wolfstar, according to another Remus' letters had confronted Pete in the Shrieking Shack. A familiar haunt. They'd forced him to transform out his Animagus form. Harry had chosen to defend Wormtail, not wanting Wolfstar to actually be murderers. Pete owed Harry his life. In all the chaos Remus had forgot about the wolfsbane. Pettigrew escaped in all the madness of Moony. Siri had transformed into Pads to stop Moony attacking Harry, Ron and Hermione. Already severely malnourished it had drained him, although a Patronus had come to defend him from the onslaught of a dementor attack. After Severus had healed him he somehow escaped the dementors kiss.

As September rolled around Mad Eye becomes the new DADA Professor after Remus's affiliation caused him to quit. The curse had struck again. Tonks had called for drinks in the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate. She'd been tasked with keeping an eye on her cousin from a distance. Stealth and tracking. She also wondered why I gave it up and transferred. Of course, she knew that story though it still amused her. She still wasn't ready to meet him. The Ministry then lost track of him. Minnie suspected him to be in South America somehow.

As Harry entered the Triwizard Tournament he came back, hiding out in a cave outside Hogsmeade. From what Minnie knew of, he was in contact with Harry. I suppose that was a good thing a relationship was being formed between them.

Taking a holiday from the café I ended up North. Residing in the Three Broomsticks, news of the Tournament soon got wind. The end of November saw the first task; retrieving a golden egg from a dragon. Due to his expertise on dragons, Charlie Weasley was back in town. His knowledge of the beasts, second to none, the exception being Hagrid and Newt Scamander. All four contestants passed the first task. The Hufflepuff boy; Cedric Diggory faced a Swedish Short-Snout. The pretty French girl from Beauxbatons, a Common Welsh Green. The Durmstrang boy and Quidditch Superstar Viktor Krum, a Chinese Fireball. Poor Harry drew the Hungarian Horntail who flew circles around the beast after summoning his broomstick.

Amber and I celebrated Christmas in the flat. A quiet few days enjoying each other's company. A small tree with small white lights and a silver star. Music playing from the radio. January in the café was dire. With Misty's permission, we gave it a lick of paint. Renewing the pastel colour scheme and changing the magical flowers from daisies to gypsophila.

The end of February, just a couple of weeks after my three and a half decades of living; Gods I feel old; I travel back up North. The second challenge around the black lake. From the edge of the trees I watch in dog form, sheltered from view by bushes of sorts. The challengers disappear into the lake. An hour or so later Mr Diggory with a dark-haired girl is first. Mr Krum with Hermione. Finally, Harry with the youngest Weasley boy and a young blonde French girl. The Beauxbatons girl had resurfaced after being attacked by the Grindylows who lived in the lakes depths.

I returned the end of June. The Quidditch Pitch transformed into a maze. A while later all hell broke loose. Harry arrived out the maze with Cedric's body. He was escorted away by Mad Eye, which was highly uncharacteristic of him. Something went down inside the castle as Dumbledore, Minnie and Severus usher past me heading for Dumbledore's office. Something was amiss. Harry was declared the winner and offered the one thousand galleon prize money to Amos and Cedric's mother. They refused this, grieving over their child.

Heading to the stone circle I contemplate the whole thing. The tournament had been abandoned in the past due to being too dangerous. And now a Hufflepuff had died. Movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. The Head of Gryffindor heading towards me. She knew I was there. "Miss Grey." She nods curtly. "The Ministry has refused to believe Albus' and Harry's claims that Tom has returned. Rising From The Ashes is now reinstated. Inform the others." I simply nod as she turns on heel and stalks off to the castle. The woman still made me feel like a schoolchild even now.

Days later another letter arrives from Remus. Sirius had stayed as Pads at Harry's bedside in the hospital wing while the boy recovered from Mad Eye, who wasn't actually Mad Eye but Barty Crouch Jr's, shenanigans. Dumbledore had asked Siri to make peace with Severus, both in which this was grudgingly. Apparently, Molly had freaked a little when Sirius was beside Harry. Suppose no one thought to tell her that Sirius was innocent. She soon calmed down though I don't think she liked him too much. Remus was to have guests at his little ramshackle cottage. Because of this he'd taken to making it a little more hospitable. Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher and Sirius were to Lie Low at Lupin's until Dumbledore was in touch.

Letters soon appeared at the flat from various Order members. Rumours around the wizarding world soon circulated. By Christmas the reinstated Order members were in constant communication. Aurors were undercover gaining knowledge from the Ministry. Severus' Dark Mark had been darkening in colour, now a double agent and one of Voldemort's inner circle. The information he was starting to gain gave us a clearer picture.

By June The Order of the Phoenix had a new HQ in Twelve Grimmauld Place. Kindly donated by Sirius who was housebound due to still being a wanted man. I, along with Tonks, had still yet to meet him. A year after young Cedric's death I find myself there. I had never been here, even during my school years. I imagine that Sirius would never have suspected to be back in his childhood home. The four-story town house in Islington had every security method known to wizarding kind protecting it. The unplottable building would be invisible to muggles. The houses either side odd numbers belonging to muggles. Dumbledore had added extra wards onto the place so that only members of the Order could access it. The Fidelius Charm conceals the building. The members of the Order all becoming secret keepers. From what I knew of the building was in need of a desperate clean. The house elf Kreacher could be rather bad tempered and offensive, holding those pure blood views of those of the noblest of houses.

Knocking upon the door I'm faced with three riddles from Remus as a precaution.

I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation and I surround every place. What am I?

A father has five daughters; Lala, Lele, Lili, Lolo. Who is the fifth?

If lightning strikes an orchestra, who is most likely to get hit?

I give him the answers; E, Lulu and The Conductor. With his wand still trained on me he asks for my codename: Pixie. In giving it, he lowers his wand, an amused smile playing on his face, letting me duck under his arm and closing the door behind me. Before either of us can speak I'm attacked by a large black dog. It plasters my face with sloppy licks. I don't know whether to laugh or cry at this. Padfoot. "Pads, get down. Give Sylvie a minute will you." Remus covers a laugh badly as he stalks down the hall. I give his back a look before placing a kiss upon the dogs' head. Oh, how I had missed him. As he transforms I'm surprised to see him out of the prison stripes and in loose jeans, a dark shirt and blazer. The wanted posters really didn't do him justice.

We pause a little. Drinking each other in. I still looked the same as I did at twenty, maybe a few more lines on my face now and dark circles from sleepless nights. My hair had darkened into a more caramel tone from the honey tones of my youth. It was shorter now too. Instead of being waist length, it was now to the base of my shoulder blades around the middle of my back. Long but shorter and still just as curly and wavy and temperamental.

He was a little gaunt and unshaven. His skin sallow. The clothes hung off him a little more than they should. Yet the way he stood and held himself was still incredibly familiar. The trademark smirk plastered on his face. Some things never change.

His grey eyes cast over the deep vee navy wrap dress, following the fabric to my still slim waist. The loose jersey fabric skimming my knees. White converse upon my feet; I still loved my biker boots but not in the summer heat. I'd seen that glint in his eyes many times in his youth. It still makes me have a lump in my throat. A bigger smirk upon his lips. Merlin. Nothing feelings wise had changed my heart races and hands feel clammy as he takes a loping stride towards me. I fall into his outstretched arms, wrapping my own around him. Breathing in his scent, I sigh softly. He was back. He draws away, holding us apart. His eyes scan my face as his rough thumb tips my chin to look up at him. Biting my lip, I don't look away. Something shifts. Our mouths meet, hungry and passionate. Lost and found. His hands tangle in my hair as my fingers latch on his shirt, pulling him closer. Fourteen years of separation pour into the kiss. My back hits a peeling wall. Hips collide. Heavy breaths in between rough kisses. A portrait of a shrieking woman startles at the impact. "Filthy half scum!" She squawks from behind the open velvet curtains. A double knock to the door interrupts us further. Maybe that was a good thing.

Remus appears once more, flicking his wand at the portrait closing her curtains. He gives us a look, a single brow raised and a smile playing upon his lips, nodding down the hallway. Sirius rolls his eyes before taking my hand leading me down to the kitchen as Remus gives whoever was at the door a few questions to think about. At the end of the hall we descend down a narrow staircase in which every step creaked. "And now you've had the wonderful opportunity to meet my mother, Sylv. Isn't she delightful?" The irony isn't undetected. I could use many words to describe her but delightful wouldn't have been my first choice. The room is long and wide with a fireplace at the far end and a large wooden table in the middle with a dozen chairs around it. Large dressers with crockery covered the right-hand side with dated kitchen appliances on the left. A grumpy house elf appears from a door at the far end of the room. Her curses under his breath at Sirius, sneering as he stomped upstairs. Remus better beware, along with our new guest.

I sit cautiously at the seat he had pulled out, accepting the tea he had made. He takes the seat opposite, reaching for my hands. The quieter observant side of him was rare, maybe more so now. His thumbs stroke across my fingers. As the steps creak under footfall he lets them go. I wrap my fingers around my mug as something to do. I wanted to ask him about Azkaban. Of how he kept sane. Of where he went to with Buckbeak the Hippogriff. I wanted to retell him about my failed days as an Auror. To why and how I transferred to the Department of Education. And to flat sharing with Amber and working in the café. Of how I no longer spoke to Harriet or Cynthia. We had a decade to catch up on. Dora's pink hair is the first thing I see of the person at the door followed by Remus. "Wotcha Cuz, Miss Sylvie." I was always Miss Sylvie. We both nod at her as she takes the seat next to me. "Did I disturb something?" A mischievous grin crosses her face. Remus simply chuckles.

The four of us spend the afternoon catching up and going over Order information. Siri had taken a strop over his apparent uselessness due to being house bound. This wasn't true. We wouldn't have this safety net or foundation if it wasn't for him. He slams a door somewhere upstairs. Remus commented that it would be the drawing room on the first floor. Sighing, I decide to go and see if he was okay, leaving Dora and Remus alone.

Climbing two flights of stairs I try a couple of doors. One to a bathroom, another to a dingy bedroom. The third door leads to a wide room with street facing windows out to the front of the house. He's stood in front of a large tapestry with a fireplace to his right and a couple of sofas facing each other. Just in front of where I was stood in the doorway was a piano coated in a layer of dust. Striding over to him I wrap my arms around his waist, my cheek against his back. He tenses a little then relaxes. His rough fingers play with the rings upon my fingers, twisting and turning them. After a moment or so, he turns around in my arms. Pressing a light kiss to my forehead. "Remember back in the day when I explained the House of Black? The tapestry?" I simply nod as he turns the both of us round to what he was facing.

The Noble House of Black Tapestry ran from floor to ceiling. Old and faded it dated back to the start of time, well the Middle Ages. Towards the ceiling in large writing it read: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black 'Toujours Pur.' Always Pure. Along the bottom just above the skirting it read: Stirps Nobilis et Gens Antiquissima Black' Sirius points at it reading; "Behold the noble family and oldest Clan Black. Latin." Darkened scorch marks edit over various people; Sirius, Andromeda and the distant in time Edurardus Limette Black who also appeared to be the first burn. Squibs, muggle lovers and fraternizing with those who already disowned seemed to be blasted. Iola Black who married a muggle. Cedrella married a blood traitor Weasley. Phineas for supporting muggle rights. The squib Marius. Andromeda for marrying Tonks. Sirius as a traitor. Uncle Alphard for helping him. Generations of Black deemed unworthy of the name.

I graze my fingers over the scorch mark of Sirius, following the line to Reg. Regulus that was held in so much esteem and honour that in helping You-Know-Who he died for it. Poor kid. The entire room is heavy with weighted history and expectation and formal mannerisms. A world away from the relaxed country cottage of my childhood.

As the afternoon turns into evening Remus and Dora head off to do other things in other places. Finding pasta, chicken and a jar of tomato sauce in the kitchen I bustle about making dinner for two. Sirius sits at the table, chair tipped back, feet on the table, hands held at the back of his head, watching my movements. In another world, this would have been normal. Not here though, and not because of another damn war. Sirius would have come home from working on the bikes and sat exactly like he was, maybe a kiss on the way past. I'd be making food, just like I was, because I got home earlier. Possibly a couple of kids running about. Not here where he hated though. Maybe a lovely semi in the home counties or up in the Borders. I still hadn't gone near the house since Iris' death. Neither had Flora. We'd cut contact. Too engrossed in our opposing worlds to connect.

Plating up we sit in a comfortable silence, mulling over things. That evening he leads me upstairs. His old room still plastered in red and gold and peeling bikini models upon faded grey walls. With a flick of my wand, it tidies a little. The broken furniture; a chair and a desk, now fixed with the drawers back in place. The holes in the curtains created by Doxies who disappear with the bright light, patched. The bed remade. The ornate fireplace dusted and scrubbed a little. I left the piles of books and magazines that were scattered around be. He simply just chuckles and rolls his eyes. Another flick of my wand fixes the broken lock upon the door and securing the room with an extra layer of Anti-Apparition Charm. Hopefully it'd provide some sort of protection from the snooping elf too.

Striding across the room he stretches out on the double bed, toeing off his boots. He pats next to him. Taking the hint, I follow suit, removing the light weight shoes from my feet and curing into his chest. Another familiarity. Somewhere below us Kreacher is pottering about probably muttering some slur about us being in his mistresses' house.

Into the night we catch up. He doesn't have much to say about being in Azkaban. His sanity kept by knowing that he was innocent and wanted Pete dead for. More of an obsession than a happy thought. He never would have betrayed James and Lily. He would have died before doing that. Just like Remus or I would have done. Not Pete. He was a rat for a reason. Transforming into Pads he slipped past the Dementors and into the North Sea, nearly dying in the process. Harry had caught the Night Bus in Little Whinging; presuming he was a Grim. The rest; sneaking into Hogwarts and the cave, was history. That was the end of that.

And then it was my turn. Remus having to tell me about James, Lily and Pete's death. Him being sent away. Falling out with Harriet. My visits to Andromeda and Dora every couple of weeks. Working with Amber. Watching Aubrey and Alfie grow up. Working in The Dreamcatcher. My mother dying and being left the property which was just now an empty cottage full of dust. Seeing Dora graduate. Bi-monthly coffee catch ups with Remus. Learning of his escape, knowing full well that he was innocent. Of keeping an eye on Harry as the terrier, though finding it strange that our paths never crossed.

We must have fallen asleep at some point as we're woken by the sun glaring through the curtains and voices echoing around the house. Remus and Dora had returned to check on us. After breakfast, I have to go back to work. Kissing Sirius lightly I promise to be back soon.

Twice a week I visit Grimmauld Place. Sometimes it's overnight, others it's just a few hours. By the end of August, we were back to a house bound relationship. He often complained about being bored. He never liked being stuck inside. Brave, clever and energetic men are usually not content with sitting at home hiding while others are deemed to be in danger.


	20. Mid 1990s

MID 1990s

It was during one of Remus and I's tea lunch catch ups that he brought up a memory; one of the Easters back in Binderby where I had taught James solitaire. The whole board game thing and maybe Sirius may not be as bored if he had some again. I agree quietly with him, thinking of that promise oh so long ago.

Days later when I knew the Order would be at a meeting elsewhere I apparate outside of the townhouse. Sirius answers it before I can knock, asking me three questions. This was getting tiresome but necessary. He'd made them incredibly personal, to which anyone definitely wouldn't know. The answer to where we had agreed to be bonded was the Astronomy Tower. To why I had been in the Hospital Wing at sixteen; we were expecting a child. His third question; to which my answer received a smirk and a lip bite from him also let me into the HQ. I'd like to think his question was just between the two of us to know the answer to in a short while.

Taking his hand, I head upstairs to his now familiar bedroom. Dropping my shoulder bag onto the floor I remove a pack of playing cards. Perching on his bed I explain a simple version of poker to him. He muses that he and the boys used to play it, blaming Remus jokingly for being the bad influence. That makes it a refresher. I then clarify it more; let's make it worthwhile. His interest piques.

Loser of each hand removes an item of clothing. To make it fair he kicks off his boots and hangs his blazer off the bed post. Now we were even with four items of clothing each. To make it another level of fun, he retrieves a bottle of Firewhisky. Each round a shot to accompany it.

First round; his socks and my shoes. A shot of whiskey each. He loses. The socks come off. His next wager; his shirt in which he unbuttons the top two buttons of, and my shoes. I lose that round deliberately. He's still in his shirt, jeans and underwear; silk boxers, no doubt. I'm in a dress plus the lingerie set. An intense stare off. We both knew each other well. Deft fingers open another couple of buttons of his shirt. Two can play at that one Black. The three buttons of the long summer dress undone; one below my knee and two above joining the nine already for ease of movement in the long skirt; the split shifted a little to expose a thigh. He downs another shot. The shirt comes off though I had the worse hand. Distractions work.

A shirtless Sirius still had the same reaction it did over a decade ago. Leaning across the cards I ghost a finger over the familiar ink on his chest, his fingers brushing my left wrist. The warmth and vibrations work even now. This is comforting. A moment shared once again. I right myself back into a comfortable sitting position. I lose the next round. Standing I face him. Slowly I undo the dozen buttons from my chest to mid-thigh, shrugging off the straps of the plum dress. He swallows hard, grey eyes slowly drinking in my body. Under his gaze I felt like a teen again.

He scatters the cards in his haste to reach me from the other side of the bed. His rough hands find my waist, pulling me against him. Our mouths connect. Hungry as always. Tempting. Teasing. My hands knot in his hair. The triangles of navy lace and satin ribbon flimsy under his experienced touch. The answer to his final question.

My body was softer than it had been the last time that he touched it. My thighs were stronger. Hips and breasts a little rounder. The years had been kind. His jeans pool at the floor as my fingers undo the button. Backing onto the bed I straddle his waist. His fingers dance down my spine as our mouths reconnect, my hands sprawled either side of his head. Moving my hips slowly, I press soft kisses to his jawline and down his throat. A raspy moan escapes from his chapped lips. Slowly he pulls the ribbon though the loops where the clasps would be, untwisting the spiral of ribbon down my spine, a tug of the ribbon at the top of my spine loosening the fabric from my body. The lace and satin gets dropped to the floor, moments later the ties at my hips follow the same tug, pull and drop. His boxers follow suit. This was natural. It's how it always used to be. That evening we retrace familiar ground. Learning to love again. He still knew exactly how and when. Same reason. Same rhyme.

The following morning we're joined at breakfast by Harry who looks embarrassed by Sirius' cat-got-the-cream look upon his face. This seemed to amuse Remus no end, reminding us about the day James walked in on us in Binderby. A new story for Harry about his dad and godfather. News comes that Delores Umbridge is to be the DADA Professor. This is educational decree number twenty-two. Someone at the Department of Education had lost the plot. I was glad to be no longer working at the Ministry.

As the kids went back to school, the café quietened down. Sirius had been put on full house arrest without visitors. This included the Order meetings. I later found out from Dora that he'd accompanied Harry to Kings Cross as Pads. The Malfoys, of course, had recognised him. Junior blond in Harry's year had referred to him as his pet dog. All it would take is Lucius to report in seeing him to the Ministry and he'd be Kissed before he could say Azkaban. It was highly stupid and reckless. Entirely Sirius.

By Christmas, Remus and Dora had staged an intervention. I could see just how fond of our beloved Moony Dora was becoming. Sirius was encouraging the kids to go undercover; opposing the bubble-gum witch's reforms as much as possible. Maybe he was reliving through Harry? He nearly got caught one night Flooing the trio. Dumbledore was rightfully angered. Sirius had become drunken disorderly. His usually more refined appearance resembling that of a street urchin. A Mundungus like odour emitted off him. Confinement had finally taken its toll upon his unstable mind. Even late at night he was still in day clothes. When his overly bristly whiskers attempted to kiss me I deliberately created distance. It gave the air of an over friendly drunken uncle.

Word comes that Arthur was in St Mungo's. In guarding the Hall of Prophecies; Harry stating that it had been Nagini who had somehow attacked him. He was being treated with a Blood Replacing Potion. The antidote had taken a couple of days to find. The twins and Molly's youngest two plus Harry had been given permission to arrive at the HQ earlier. Molly had arrived in the early hours. The family had visited the stricken elder accompanied by Dora and Mad Eye. Days before Christmas Arthur was allowed back to the HQ, closer for monitoring than Ottery St Catchpole. Clearly, he hadn't expected to arrive to Sirius and the turncoat arguing about Merlin knows what. Feelings had not been lost there.

Sirius had perked up on Christmas morning. He'd shaven and had clean clothes on. Clearly having the company of the Weasley's and Harry had done him the world of good. Molly was just tolerating being there, though I think God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs was possibly a step too far.

I spend New Year wrapped up in his arms, making explosions to rival the fireworks outside. Another birthday passes. We celebrate together once more. This time I didn't mind the flowers on my birthday. He treated me at Easter too. Gorgeous buttercup yellow lace triangle halter bra and hipsters which he had far too much fun giving me to try on under a dress and then taking his time removing it. Light touches. Deliberate fingers. Teasing mouth. Slow burn. Impatient. Frustrating. Worth it once he made me see stars and catch my breath just with that mouth and those nimble fingers. His masculinity proven as many time afterwards. Exploding. Filling. Like it had done in the past. Together we were one.

As summer draws closer Harry's mental state gradually gets worse. His visions become crazier each time. Relying on a teenager to save the wizarding world was maybe a bad idea.

The lunchtime rush had gone. Amber and I were tidying up, dancing to the radio when Dora and Remus appear. The air around them instantly changes the atmosphere. Order business. Dora looked awful, tired and drawn. Her natural light brown hair messily pulled up in a ponytail and dark brown eyes instead of bubble-gum pink and violet eyes that she had been sporting. Amber covers while the three of us head upstairs in silence. They take one sofa, I sit on the other facing them. The silence is heavy. It makes me nervous, my fingers play with the rings upon each hand as something to do with them. Remus leans forward, fingers steepled, his eyes meeting mine. "Sylvie." He takes a single deep breath. "Last night there was another battle in the Ministry." He pauses, something flashes across his face. It can't have been good. "The prophecy smashed. We had to rescue the kids. Sirius was taunting her. She hit his chest." Slow, deliberate sentences. "The veil. Bellatrix had a too happy reaction. He fell through the veil. He's gone Sylvie."

"Gone where, Remus?" I kept shaking my head, not really understanding or believing. "What's the veil? Bella hit his chest with what?" Nothing made sense.

"Sylvie," Dora interrupts. "Sirius died." Her usual sass and fun is devoid. I look between them. It finally sinks in as my heart fills with heaviness and tears softly fall. I gulp for air as a lump appears in my throat. I hurtle across the room to the small bathroom, emptying my guts into the toilet. Hugging the bowl, I curl my knees up to my chest awkwardly. Taking deep breaths through constant tears I listen to them as they recall the previous night.

Harry's visions had been so strong that he was convinced the Dark Lord was holding Siri captive. The trio along with Neville, Misses Lovegood and Weasley had gone to the Department of Mysteries to rescue him when they were ambushed by his followers. A setup. Harry had tried to protect the Orb, Neville had kicked it after Malfoy Senior tried to stun Harry. Bella and Siri had been batting upon a dais, the only two unaware of Dumbledore. He'd ducked a red light, laughing and playing, quite possibly like they had as children. His voice carried around the room; "Come on, you can do better than that!" The second jet of a stunning spell had hit him square, right where his ink was. His eyes had widened in shock, laughter ghosting his face. He fell through the air gracefully in an arc as if time had stood still, sinking backwards through the ragged curtained archway. Fear and surprise on his face as he'd disappeared. The curtain fluttered as though a high wind had passed through before falling back into place. Poor Harry had thought that he would just appear at the other side. It took Remus everything to restrain Harry by the chest and not follow Sirius himself. Harry's shouts for his godfather had stayed with Remus. Dora had been knocked unconscious through the fight. Remus found it hard to remain calm for Harry's sake. Tears fell as he recalled the story. Dumbledore had rounded up the Death Easters but Bella had escaped. Harry had tried to follow her but got lost through the many doors and rooms. Forever her masters truest soldier. Remus had stayed to help the kids; the stunned Luna and cursed Hermione, Ginny with her broken ankle and Neville with his lisp and Ron's giddiness. All results from various duels. Dumbledore had followed Harry and Bella into the atrium. Tom had appeared. Dumbledore protecting Harry. Fawkes, Dumbledore's latest phoenix, had taken a direct hit. Tom and Bella had escaped. Sirius had died fighting and protecting Harry. Just like we all were, protecting the boy who lived at all costs.

This wouldn't bring Sirius back though. He was gone. My Gryffindor Bad Boy. My teenage love. My adult love. My only love. The newness of our relationship after he escaped; still a wanted man. The passion and normality of being two consenting adults to do as we wished. The only man who I gave everything to, and he the same. He was now gone. The sadness from within had soon shifted. My veins burned with something stronger. I wanted to hunt the dark twisted house of Black bitch down and frazzle and fry her like she'd done to Alice and Frank. I wanted to Crucio her till she was a ball of mush and fat. I wanted to blast her off the face of the damned land for taking away my one true love and leaving me alone in the world. Someone needed to give her a taste of her own God damned medicine and make sure it hurt like hell.

But I wouldn't do that. Not right now. She would get hit with Karma really good with things finally caught up with her.

Somehow through the retell they'd shifted me to the sofa, both holding me as I cried and hurt. I needed away. Remus owls Minnie, letting her know that I accepted her offer of doing Order business in Europe. I had to get away.

Days later, I've enough energy and lack of tears to be in Molly's kitchen at The Burrow. Talking to her she provides a reassuring motherly presence and perspective. As I cradle the hot tea she encourages me to seek the new. As she points out I'd always be in contact with Minerva, after all it was through her that I was starting the next chapter. Before leaving I swear Molly to a secret; Arthur providing the magic to create an Unbreakable vow until I was ready to return. Outside she simply pulls me into a hug. I give her my word to let her know when I reach my destination safely.

Why Bella had used Stupefy, a red light, on her cousin I would never know. If he had been anywhere apart from on that dais he would have been stunned. Maybe that's why. Maybe she never meant to kill him. Somehow the twisted witch had some sort of conscience.

Sirius had died with a red light, not green.

Sirius' death had been a fatal accident.

My tattoo and the bond we shared was broken.

June the 18th 1996. Just thirty-six years old.

Sirius was dead.


	21. June 2000 Epilogue

**Okay, so this is the final chapter. Set as a time skip but also with flashbacks. All sorts of emotions through it, stuff I could include, and some of it got edited out. Case of flow, though maybe I'll add a one-shot at some point in the future with the Next Gen stuff touched on. Who knows, I'm not promising. This was originally only supposed to be a few chapters when I first started to write, and it's expanded into something I have enjoyed and sad to let go of. Thanks for reading, now onto the Epilogue x**

JUNE 2000

I stand outside the boundary of the familiar building where Molly had made a promise four years ago. Four years and one week ago Sirius was murdered in what was dubbed The Battle of the Department of Mysteries. He was a fallen solider; his name now cleared. No longer a murderous traitor unfairly sent to Azkaban, used under hushed whispered breaths of fear. His name now associated with bravery and courage, of daring nerve and chivalry; all the things a true Gryffindor should be although the chivalry part may be debateable at times. It still hurt to think about him but I had to keep living. I had other things to deal with.

Old Minnie using her contacts in Belgium, sent me there under instructions of The Order. In reaching the coastal city of Oostende in West Flanders, I stay in a hotel off one of the side streets, steps away from the esplanade, a beach and the theatre. The city was beautiful. The sandy beach closest had a lovely promenade and the Belgian Royal Galleries which spans from near to where I was staying beside the Royal Villa, to the Hippodrome. Walking through the archways and Tuscan columns with the beach on one side and art on the other was something to experience. It created a shade from the warm sun and cool rain. A large hotel, the Thermae Palace, was built on top of the Galleries. I spent a lot of time wandering this long corridor, thinking.

From the hotel, and eventually my studio apartment, these were to the left and South facing. Heading North to the point and pier following the promenade round through the water fountains which delight young and old. The promenade then cuts East for the harbour full of fishy smells and boat trips. The docked Mercator is a fishing trawler turned museum. A small aquarium full of North Sea aquatics; various shellfish and such made me connect with home. The beautiful train station with connections with the rest of Europe. The open square dotted by shops and cafes overwhelmed by the west front of the neo-gothic St Petrus and St Paulus church. It's spire rising into the blue above.

The shopping district creates a triangle between the beach and harbour. A small bandstand inside of the square perfect for eating ice cream under in summer and full of arcade amusements in the winter. A small shopping centre and plenty of independent shops full of quirky items. Even the odd famous yellow arches of a fast food chain.

This wonderfully quirky beach city became my home.

Minnie had put me in touch with a Flemish elder based in Oostende named Elke. It was pronounced El-Kah as she corrected me in our first meeting not Elk as in a deer. Miss Janssen was a lot like Minnie; lithe in build, a little stricter but with a mischievous glint in her eye. Elke had ties with the European Magical Congress and the Belgian Ministry of Magic. I was to be a connection between what was to become in the UK and its exposure in this part of Europe. Through Elke I also was signed into a version of the Order; the Unfurling Butterfly, Ontrollen Vlinder. Far more graceful and feminine that the Phoenix, made up of women as a majority.

In the July, I got word that the west country had been heavily damaged. It was suspected that it was giants and Death Eaters; though the muggles blamed a hurricane due to uprooted trees, roofs being torn off and serious injuries. I cried at the murders of Emmeline Vance and Amelia Bones who I had gone to school with. Elke and her daughter Rina had comforted me; become the family I no longer had. I doubt Flora would notice my disappearance. There had been a change in the British Ministry; Rufus Scrimgeour was now Minister.

As Hogwarts restarted Slughorn was now potions Master once again. This brought back some nostalgic memories which I happily shared with Elke and Rina. They also willingly let me return back to Binderby in the October. I needed to draw a line over my Mother's death and move on. There was also another motive in being there. Molly's promise allowing her to get notification as I apparate into the stream area behind the house. The wards and charms letting me do so undetected. As I wind my way through the meadow I add extra protection to the property via a few spells that I had learned abroad. To the outside world I would go unnoticed.

On the first of November Molly arrives via Floo. Embracing me into a motherly hug she fusses over my changed body. With just over eight weeks to go, she helps me clean the house. True to her word she wouldn't tell a soul about the legacy that I was now part of. Once a week she popped in with groceries and such. Christmas was a quiet affair. Rina had sent a card via the Floo wishing that I was well and enjoying my isolation the best it could be.

The world changed on the twenty ninth. A quiet Sunday it was not. Molly was there to help welcome the legacy that was my son. Our son. The son of the disinherited House of Black. Caleb Orion was his father's double. Born in the evening with a shock of dark hair and icy blue eyes which would turn grey within weeks and a cute button nose that was definitely more of my father's side. So many people would presume the male side of the Black line to be extinct. Caleb was that miniscule chance that it wasn't. The Black line was not extinct. The universe was in Sirius' and I's favour when he was conceived at the Easter. His father unaware; murdered when I was just twelve weeks gone. Our son's name meaning Devotion to God, could also be Resembling a dog, due to its original Hebrew variation of Kelev. Highly appropriate I think. Molly once again reiterates her promise to keep his birth a secret.

I return to Oostende in the early weeks of January, securing the house wards before our departure. With my son cradled to my chest I apparate back to our apartment and to the second home he would have lived in in his short life.

The war in England gets gradually worse. Wizarding Europe is a tense place. They didn't want to involve themselves in it. There would not be another world war.

When Cale was just six months old Minnie writes to say that Dumbledore was dead. Young Malfoy, now a Death Eater, had been tasked to kill him. Severus had done the deed instead. Others had been hurt in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. One of Sirius' favourite places had become a warzone. She writes that Mr D Malfoy had become a DE due to his father's incapability to retrieve the prophecy. This, of course, had its own casualties. Flitwick had been stunned but was recovering. Molly's eldest Bill had been attacked by Greyback. Various others were battling hard and had taken a few days to recover. Hagrid's hut had been set aflame. Severus and Harry had duelled. Harry had been knocked and bashed a little. Severus, the murdering traitor, had vanished. No doubt to his Lord's side. Fleur and Bill were still to marry. In all the chaos Dora had publicly declared her love for Moony. Even in the darkest of days, love still gave light.

Halfway through August Remus writes. He'd worn Minnie down to where I had gone. He and Dora had married. A small private affair with Andromeda and Ted and Minnie in attendance. It had gotten worse. The Death Eaters that Dumbledore had caught in the Department of Mysteries had escaped. Young Hermione had sent her parents to Australia. The Battle of the Seven Potters; a ploy to let Harry leave Little Whingeing to The Burrow safely due to him being of age and no longer under Lily's protection, had resulted in the killing of Mad Eye. Dora had taken this understandably hard. The trio had finally received items from Dumbledore's will after they'd been inspected by the Ministry. Bill and Fleur's wedding was lovely until The Burrow was attacked by Death Eaters. The trio had escaped as various members of the Phoenix defending against the darkness. Pius Thicknesse had taken over from Scrimgeour who had been murdered. Dark days.

Over the next year communicating with home was impossibly difficult. All lines of communication down. I was effectively, banished and estranged from England.

From what I caught snippets of, nothing was well. The Dark Lord was once again gaining power. Not even Hogwarts was safe. Pete had been killed. I'd like to say, this was, eventually. The sneaky rat had cheated death too many times. Long gone was that funny little boy I once knew as one of my best friends. Remus and Dora had become parents. This made me smile but also miss them dearly. Just weeks later after Edward Remus Lupin was born, named after his grandfather Ted, The Battle of Hogwarts began. There were heavy losses on both sides including my beloved Moony and Dora. My two closest of friends were now gone, orphaning little Teddy. History had repeated itself. Andromeda would look after her grandson alone. Tom Riddle was defeated by the not so young Harry. Minnie became Headmistress and Shacklebolt the Minister. Finally, some proper authority.

It took a while for things to return to normal in the aftermath of the war. The crumbling Hogwarts was getting rebuilt daily under Minnie's guidance. Harry, Ron and young Neville all started as Aurors. Hermione had returned to school to complete her NEWTs along with Ginny and Miss Lovegood.

Cale grew older too. I took him to work with me; had him integrating with wizard kind from the get go. Security had upped in Europe though was gradually relaxing. Visiting historic Ypres, I chatted to Cale about the significance of the city during the muggle wars. Even though he didn't understand, it was nice to share my knowledge of the place. Luckily, he kept silent during the Last Post at the Menin Gate. It was during this that I thought of those that I had lost, not only in the past of my parents but also Flora in a way. To James and Lily and the legacy living through their son. To Sirius and our unborn child of our teenage years who would have been an adult and to the sleeping child in the carrier across my chest. His father lived on in him. And to Remus and Dora and little Teddy. To Andromeda, in losing her husband and daughter and son in law, had now gained a grandson. The cheeky twinkle in Dumbledore's eye when he encouraged our mischief. To Molly and Arthur with two injured sons and now one in the afterlife. I hoped Prongs, Pads and Moony would have Fred as their fourth Marauder in place of Pettigrew. War was tough on everyone. I had lived through two wizarding one plus a muggle one over Spanish territories and whatever other disputes.

Another work trip brings me to Bruges. A lovely lazy canal and winding cobbled streets. Some of the best chocolate shops that Moony would have found heavenly. And glorious architecture which he probably would have admired too. The ancient city hall with its views over the square, now an interactive museum and worth the euros paid. The pedestrianised streets of the city deemed worthy of a UNESCO heritage site. The winding streets marvellous from the horse drawn carts. Each area of the city, primarily squares, are dotted with cafes and small shops. The city was a wholly marvellous place to work and play.

As things in the UK settled down the tensions in Europe mimicked it. Various countries, Belgium, France and Bulgaria through Quidditch Superstar and once Triwizard Tournament competitor Viktor Krum, all extending hands of friendship to help get Britannia back on her feet.

Cale and I celebrate the Millennium in Oostende. Our Flemish friends holding fireworks on the beach. We watch from the promenade; Elke and Rina bundled up at our sides. Cale watches the colours in fascination. My three-year-old making explosion movements with his arms as they erupt. Already he was showing signs of magic; making toys move across the room when he wanted them to if only by a foot. He'd look at me with wide eyes and an amazed expression. He may look like his father but his brain was more similar to my own. The telekinesis summoning already forming. The child never failed to amaze me.

So here we were; six months later in Ottery St Catchpole standing looking at The Burrow. The once upon a time cottage extending upwards in various rooms via magic. The comforting house was once a target, had now been patched up and habitable as it has always been. Hand in hand we make our way to the front door, the invisible charms rippling around us as we follow the path down the front yard. I knock a few times upon the peeling red door. Molly with her greying auburn curls opens it, surprise written upon her face. Cale shifts behind me. He was a little nervous with new people. I surrender into her open arms awkwardly. The vow now acceptingly broken. It was like coming home. In seeing Cale, she smiles at him as I introduce the pair. Shouldering the backpack that I had dropped on the step, we follow her into the familiar kitchen. Various red headed children, now older, stop talking and look curiously, whispering to themselves. Andromeda is there, her chocolate eyes and hair now softened, light up. A toddler with green hair squirms in her arms. Young Teddy takes after his mother. Dromeda's eyes flit towards the child by my side. Emotions passing over her face. It must be strange for her to see her favourite cousin, so many memories, in Caleb.

My son grins at Molly as she offers him a digestive. Arthur stands, offering me his seat after embracing me awkwardly patting me on the back. Placing the backpack on the ground I sit on the wooden chair, Cale clambering into my lap offering half the biscuit to Teddy, who takes it. His chubby fingers curling around the crumbling half circle. He shows it to everyone before sucking on it. Cale relaxes back onto my chest. The kids look older, hardened by the things that they had done and witnessed.

The scarred Bill and his wife Fleur had a tiny sleeping daughter in her arms. The seven-week-old Victoire born on the second anniversary of defeating the Dark Lord. Shimmering white blonde fine hair dusted her head with familiar blue Weasley eyes. Charlie, I presumed, had gone back to Romania to be with his dragons. Percy, still rather formal and his girlfriend Audrey who was softer and gently spoken than he was sat with cups of cooling tea. George, without Fred, and an ear which Cale had pointed out and I had apologised for, had Miss Angelina Johnson beside him. Her hand was entwined with his. He simply smiles at Cale, offering him a fluffy purple Pygmy Puff. Cale giggles at this as the fluffball snuggles into his stomach upon his lap. "Mama. Fuff." He nods as if to confirm it, grinning at the red headed businessman as he gently pats the fluffy pet.

The younger of Molly's kids; Ron and Ginny along with Hermione and Harry were huddled together at the end of the table. The late teens had grown up immensely since I had seen them last during Order meetings in Grimmauld Place. Ginny's hand rested upon Harry's knee. Ron and Hermione's hands together under the table. I was glad that they were all relatively unscathed. Harry's vibrant eyes, so much like his mothers, dart between Cale and I, then Andromeda. Pain flashes quickly across his face as everything twigs. Molly nods to me to introduce Cale properly. I look at each face in turn, lingering on 'Dromeda and Teddy and also Harry. "Everyone, meet Caleb Orion Black. He was born at the end of December; the twenty ninth; six months after the death of his father. Sirius never knew. But his will still stands. Grimmauld Place and everything in vault seven hundred and eleven, is still yours Harry. However, the Black blood is not extinct in the male line. Toujours Pur, it is not." A smile of amusement from Andromeda. I'd like to think that his parents would be rolling in their graves in Hell along with Dromeda's sister Bella whose death came by Molly. Molly avenged Sirius' death; to her I was forever in debt. And that Moony, Padfoot and Prongs would be celebrating in the afterlife. Their sons all around the same table.

None of us knew what the future held but with the future generations now here, together, the world was theirs.


End file.
